


Lights Won't Lead You Home

by namidaame49



Category: Persona 3, Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Anal Sex, Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inspired by Tangled (2010), M/M, Oral Sex, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:08:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 37
Words: 44,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28060680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/namidaame49/pseuds/namidaame49
Summary: The room at the top of Madarame's forest tower is all that Yusuke has ever known. He has food, shelter, and all the art supplies he could ever want, and all that's required of him in return are paintings that can be sold to earn his keep, staying hidden away from anyone who might not understand his circumstances, and the small sacrifice of using his magic to craft potions of life for his sensei.Akira has lived on the streets his whole life, being shifted from family to family until he was old enough to provide for himself. What he wants more than anything is to make an honest living, so he strikes out for the southern coast, far away from anyone who would know him. Along the way, he hears a rumor about a reclusive artist who lives in the forest and decides to check it out.Minato never knew his father and his mother died two years ago. When he is arrested under suspicion of performing magic, then quickly released as a case of mistaken identity, he decides to find who he was mistaken for.
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Kitagawa Yusuke, Kitagawa Yusuke/Kurusu Akira, Kitagawa Yusuke/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 14
Kudos: 27





	1. April 1 (Yusuke)

Birdsong drifted through the window from the nearby trees, gently waking Yusuke from sleep. He opened his eyes to see a bluebird perched on the open windowsill, a worm wriggling in its mouth. "Don't play with your food before eating it," he instructed the bird as he sat up, pushing the light blanket off so he could get up. The bird eyed him cheekily as it gulped down the worm.

Yusuke wrapped a light yukata around himself before walking barefoot to the small kitchen area. Somehow, the food supplies were replenished at night while he slept. He supposed it was no surprise he hadn't heard them; he was quite the heavy sleeper most nights. Tucking his hair behind his ear, he poured water into the kettle for tea and began measuring out oatmeal. Madarame provided him with simple food, something that fell easily into his routine. Sustenance to fuel his art, and nothing more.

He spooned the warm food into his mouth mechanically, looking out the tower window at the forest nearby. Despite the height of the tower, he could only see the tops of trees nearby; the tower itself was in a hollow, blocking it from view of curious onlookers. Madarame had told him stories of the cruel villagers; the story of how they had feared Yusuke's mother for the magic she possessed, and what they had done to her when Yusuke was a baby, had been impressed upon him from a young age. If they ever found out Yusuke was still alive, they would surely burn him at the stake for what he was, as well. Only the tower was safe.

"What about my father?" little Yusuke had asked.

Madarame had given him a stern look. "Who do you think turned your mother into the authorities? She trusted him, an outsider, and look what she got in return. That is why you must stay here, Yusuke."

Still, Yusuke found himself drawn more and more to the world outside his tower room as he grew older. He was sixteen now, and though he could not deny that Madarame had given him everything he needed -- a home, safe harbor from the authorities, food, and art supplies -- he yearned to see something besides the forest outside his windows and the fantastical scenes of ancient Japan depicted in the old history books he was allowed to read.

He sighed, taking the empty oatmeal bowl to the sink and washing it carefully. Such thoughts were foolish, of course. But perhaps, now that he was approaching adulthood, Madarame would be more open to the idea of him at least leaving the tower. He didn't even need to see the town! All he wanted was a change of scenery to give him new ideas.

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door, and the key ground in the lock before the door swung into the room to admit Madarame. "Good morning, Yusuke," he said calmly. "It is the first of April. Is it ready?"

"Yes, sensei." Yusuke turned to the canvas he had set aside to dry the previous night. On it was painted the same ornate phial he had painted time and time before, full of a glistening golden liquid.

"Good." Madarame nodded curtly. "Proceed with the enchantment."

Yusuke held his hand out to the painting, the familiar magic glowing in his fingertips as he traced over what he had painted, imbuing it with the abstract concept of life. The strands of magic pulled at him in a tangible way, unwinding something around his heart, traveling down his arm, pulling something taut. It was like this every time he made this painting for Madarame. He grit his teeth, pushing the magic out of his fingertips and trying to suppress a flinch when the string of magic snapped, dragging a sharp edge through him as it recoiled in his chest.

The canvas was empty, and the phial of potion rested on the table in front of it. Madarame picked it up, nodding in satisfaction as he held it up to the light before unstoppering it and drinking the contents. He seemed to grow slightly younger, the few gray wisps of hair darkening to their usual black, and the wrinkles that had started to form smoothed out. "Now, for this month, I think you need a challenge. Pick a place from one of the three new books I gave you last week and paint it."

He was in a good mood from the potion; if any time would be the time to ask, it would be now. Yusuke fought back the pain from the raw edges of his magic, still curling in his chest. "Sensei, I wanted to ask -- it's difficult for me to find new inspiration in this tower. Could I perhaps venture out one day? Even just in the forest, I don't have to see the village -- "

"How could you."

Madarame's face had darkened. "After all the consideration I've shown you, the protection I've given you, you would throw that away? Place yourself in the path of danger for your art? You don't need to leave to seek inspiration. If you find yourself stuck...you're simply not trying hard enough."

"But -- "

"No buts, Yusuke! I couldn't save your mother once she went out into the world. I don't intend to make the same mistake with you. Never ask me again."

Madarame turned on his heel and left. The key grinding in the lock sounded ominous and final. Even the birds had stopped singing. Yusuke swayed on his feet as he stumbled to his bed, collapsing onto it as he finally let the exhaustion and pain from the painting take hold.

He could bring any of his paintings to life for short periods of time. A vase of flowers could adorn his table for a few days before dissolving into dust and glitter that gently floated back into him. A small songbird could perch on his shoulder and chirp into his ear for an hour before melting back into the strands of magic it had come from, winding themselves back into him. But the potion he made for Madarame required him to completely separate those strands from himself, break them and offer them to his teacher and guardian. It was as if the three months of youth Madarame received from each draught were being taken from Yusuke's own lifespan.

And today, the first potion he'd made after turning sixteen, was the first time he questioned why he was doing this.

_ He took you in as a baby when your mother was killed. _

_ That's what he  _ says _ happened, _ Yusuke argued with himself.  _ I have no proof that what he says about the villagers is true. Perhaps he overstates the danger of the people. _

A powerful wave of exhaustion washed over him, and he swallowed down the nausea it left in its wake. Not even bothering to take his yukata back off, Yusuke weakly pulled the blanket over himself, surrendering to unconsciousness.


	2. April 1 (Akira)

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you." Akira's eyes widened in a look of perfect innocent chagrin.

"No worries at all." The woman he'd run into waved him off with a cheery grin. "Such a polite boy," he heard her say to her companion.

Nonchalantly, he slipped her coin purse into his pocket.

He wouldn't be in this town long; it was just a small farming hamlet, with nothing on offer but a small market street, a traveling cloth saleswoman, and a tavern of rough-and-tumble lumberjacks. It was just a short layover in his trek between large cities, where he could slip through crowds unnoticed much more easily. Maybe even apprentice for a trade so he could make an honest living.

It had been barely a day’s journey from the town he'd come from to this little nameless village, but with as dark as the sky was getting even before sundown, he was looking forward to sleeping indoors. Judging by the weight of the purse he had just swiped, he'd probably have enough for a room at the tavern for the night, as well as a week's worth of supplies so he could continue on west.

The sun was touching the horizon, so he turned his attention to the small shops nearby, making small talk with the shopkeepers as he bought rations for his trip, and if he slipped a small piece of hard candy into his sleeve as he was "checking the price" it wasn't really harming anyone, was it? One copper would hardly be missed by the shopkeeper, whereas Akira had to count every one. He always had.

The tavern was already starting to get noisy as he entered, supplies stashed carefully in his knapsack, and made his way to the bar. The barkeeper nodded at him as he approached. "What'll it be, son?"

"Do you have a room open for the night? I'm just passing through on my way to visit my folks."

"Sure thing, if you've got the coin. I'll even throw in a meal."

Akira passed over the silver coins, nodding his thanks. The bartender pocketed the money and gave him a key. "Just go up the stairs, third door on the right. Come back down when you're ready to eat."

"Thank you very much."

Akira deposited his knapsack in the corner of the small room, making sure anything of value was secreted on his person instead of left in the bag, before heading back down. Rain was already spattering against the windows as he descended. The bartender set out a bowl of hearty stew and a piece of brown bread for him, and as he started eating, he kept his ears open to the increasingly-drunken conversations happening around him.

" -- an' maybe she'll spread 'er legs for ye yet!"

" -- maybe we'll get rain at the right times this year for the crops -- "

"Think that strange old coot from the woods'll be at the market tomorrow?"

Akira perked up a little, turning his head just slightly to hear better.

"Strange old coot? Oh, you mean that artist? Yeah, I'd guess he'll be around for a few days like he usually is at the start of every season. He's not that old, is he? He doesn't look a day over forty. My ma's older."

"Yeah, him. He usually has those paintings for sale, and my wife has been saying she wants one for months. I finally have enough saved up. Figured I'd surprise her for our anniversary."

"Those are awfully good paintings. They look so real. Like they could come to life if you thought about it hard enough."

"I don't know why he lives out in the woods like a hermit. He makes enough money selling those paintings that you'd think he could afford something here in town."

"I think my ma said he used to live in town. Wasn't there was some sort of scandal fifteen or so years ago with one of his students? She got pregnant out of wedlock, and next thing you know the father's vanished into the night, nobody wants anything to do with her or the kid, she gets mysteriously ill and dies, and then Madarame took the kid to live with him."

"Weird. He never brings the kid with him when he comes to sell. And I've never heard any of those rumors before."

"The rumors died out pretty quick, to be honest. My ma is really the only person I've heard talk about him. I think she knew that woman before she died. Sayuri, or something like that? I'd have to ask her."

Akira swiped the bread around the bottom of the bowl to get the last of the soup as he listened. Madarame...where had he heard that name before? And the fact that this apparently very successful artist was living in the woods nearby piqued his interest. If he was going to be peddling his goods here for a week, maybe Akira could find this mysterious forest abode while it was less occupied. Maybe he could find a painting there that he could swipe to sell to someone in the city.

He couldn't deny that the mention of the child Madarame had taken in fifteen years ago was intriguing, as well. That would put this mysterious person at about Akira's own age, and if they were being locked away in a forest cabin, maybe they would want out. He allowed himself a brief daydream of a beautiful girl with blonde locks cascading over her shoulders thanking him for rescuing her as they both ran away from the cabin, a few paintings in tow as they headed into the sunrise --

He rolled his eyes at himself as he finished eating, heading back up to his room. Darkness had fully fallen as he had eaten, so he crawled into the blankets on the dusty tatami floor, letting the sound of the pouring rain lull him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hey...are you using the D&D monetary system in your Persona story set in a Tangled-ified version of Japan?" Yes, yes I am. Expect Japanese town names, D&D money, a very limited semi-original magic system, and an ill-defined vaguely European-style monarchy. The joys of NaNoWriMo writing!


	3. April 2 (Yusuke)

An angry chirping was what finally stirred Yusuke from his slumber. Blinking blearily, he focused with some difficulty on the bluebird perched on his windowsill, which looked rather proud of itself for waking the sleeping teen. Yusuke glanced at the clock ticking away on the wall. 7:15. That meant that he had slept nearly a full day after making the potion for Madarame.

He sighed, dragging himself out of bed and looking for his yukata, before realizing he was still wearing it. "It's getting worse," he said to the bluebird, who had started grooming its wings. He used to be able to recover from making the potion with a quick half-hour nap, but within the last year, it had started taking longer and longer each time. He doubted Madarame even knew, because he always left to go sell paintings in the village right after Yusuke had made the potion for him. ("Why don't the villagers come after you, sensei?" "They don't know I gave you shelter. That's why I must sell your paintings under my name, so I can afford supplies for us.")

Sighing, Yusuke set about making his usual breakfast, feet dragging on the wood floor as he worked. He offered a bit of the oatmeal to the bluebird, who gave it an offended look before flying back to the forest, presumably to gossip about Yusuke to its little bird family.

Feeling marginally better after eating, Yusuke seated himself in front of the bookshelves, browsing for a book that would give him ideas for a painting to satisfy Madarame's challenge. He leafed through a book on ancient imperial gardens, stopping to cross-reference it with an illustrated book of plants, before sketching out what he thought the garden of an emperor would look like. For all his conceptual knowledge of plants, common zen garden layouts, and the general air of nobility, he couldn't help but grow frustrated as he drew. "I have nothing to compare this to," he said plaintively to his last failed challenge attempt, a painting of a young woman meant to evoke a feeling of desire in the viewer. "How can I improve if I have no idea where I'm failing?"

A distant noise pricked his ear and he turned, frowning. Madarame couldn't possibly be back after only a day in the village, could he? He listened in silence for a few seconds. When nothing else sounded amiss, he turned back to his work. Perhaps he could incorporate perspective to evoke a sense of grandeur --

The doorknob jiggled.

Heart leaping into his throat, Yusuke stared at the door to his room. He had been safe here for so long!

There was a scraping sound, as if something were being wiggled around in the keyhole. Moving silently, Yusuke tiptoed to the kitchen cabinets, carefully gripping a frying pan with both hands before creeping over to the door, trying to position himself so he could get an angle on the intruder with the pan before being seen.

The lock clicked and the door swung open. Yusuke caught sight of a head of messy dark curls as he swung his makeshift weapon --

"Oof!"

The person stumbled on his feet for a moment before dropping to his knees and then face-planting on the floor. With some effort, Yusuke dragged him over to the footboard of his bed before looking around for something to tie him up with. When he didn't find anything satisfactory, he tugged his obi loose and wrapped it clumsily around the boy's wrists, binding them together behind his back and looping the material around one of the posts of the bed, stepping away just as the boy groaned, moving his head slowly from side to side.

Doing his best to look intimidating, Yusuke took a fighting stance with his frying pan in one hand and the other clutching his yukata closed, just out of reach of the boy. "Who are you?" he demanded, tightening his grip on the handle to keep his fingers from shaking.

"Uuuungh." Dark eyes fluttered open and he winced. "D'you have to talk so loud?"

"Answer the question."

"What's the question? I think somebody hit me over the head with a frying pan."

Yusuke narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?" he repeated.

"Me? I'm in over my head, apparently. Didn't expect a trained assassin in a forest tower."

Yusuke raised the frying pan a little higher.

"All right, all right. My name's Akira."

"Why are you here?"

"Well, I heard about this weird artist guy who lived in the forest with some kid he'd been keeping captive for fifteen years, and to be honest, I was hoping it was going to be a beautiful woman that I could rescue and ride off into the sunrise with...but you're a pretty good-looking alternative, if I do say so myself."

Even in his concussed state, Akira flashed a grin at Yusuke, who frowned in confusion as he felt his cheeks heating up. That sounded like a line out of one of those romance novels that had been in the last set of books Madarame had provided him...was this boy actually  _ flirting _ with him? "Nonsense. You were just trying to steal some of Madarame's artwork."

"I mean, that was a side benefit, but..." Akira's keen eyes looked behind Yusuke to the multiple canvases, sketchbooks, and art supplies scattered around the table. "Somehow, I don't feel like those paintings are actually his, are they?"

"He's a well-established name," Yusuke protested weakly, "and I am no one. He can sell these paintings for more coin if they bear his signature."

"So let me get this straight. You've been living here, locked up in this room, for fifteen years? Doing nothing but painting? And this old coot just takes your stuff and sells it?"

"Please do not use such coarse words to describe my sensei. I owe him my life."

"You owe him for this meager existence he allows you," Akira corrected him. "Your life is your own, and don't let anyone tell you anything different."

Slowly, Yusuke lowered the frying pan. Akira seemed to be more interested in talking to him than attacking him. "What do you want from me, Akira?"

Akira shrugged. "Well, now that I've seen this tower, and I've seen _you,_ I want to take you away from here. Show you the world for a bit. You seem like you could use an escape, and I'll be honest, I've been running around by myself for a few years and I'm pretty lonely. Give me a month and if you decide you like it better here in your tower, I'll bring you back. I'll even take the fall for you disappearing with your sensei."

"And what do you get out of this?"

"I just told you, I'm lonely. I'm an orphaned street urchin. I've been more successful at my heists than most, which is why I'm here and not in a gutter with a rusty pipe through my throat, but even the best stealing doesn't make you friends."

Though he still had an easygoing expression on his face, Yusuke saw a flash of loneliness in his eyes. It cut him to his very soul as he recognized the feeling quite deeply, and he turned away to put the frying pan back where it belonged to avoid Akira seeing him blink away tears. "That's it, then? I get to see the world, and you get to have someone accompany you?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

Yusuke gazed out the small window above the kitchen sink. How many times had he dreamed of something like this happening? And yet, he found himself hesitating. For all of Akira's glib words, he felt like Madarame would not simply let his disappearance go, even if Akira swore it was his fault. Yusuke would likely be giving up his life here forever if he chose to leave with Akira.

"Tell me about where you're going, Akira."

"Me?" There was a moment of hesitation, and Yusuke could hear Akira shifting against his bonds. "I'm going to Nagoya. I'm hoping to find someone who will take me on as an apprentice so I can learn an honest craft." There was another moment of silence. "There are a lot of artisans in the city, too. With your skill, I don't doubt you could find a patron."

Yusuke nearly leapt out of his skin when a hand was placed on his shoulder. Akira, standing just behind him, gave him a wide grin. "I told you, I've been thieving my entire life. You've never properly trussed someone up and it shows."

"You're a terrible houseguest."

"And you're a terrible host. We've been talking for a while and I still don't know your name. I can't just call you 'artist boy' if we're going to travel together."

"My name is Yusuke."

"Yusuke," Akira repeated. "It suits you." He handed the obi that had been tying his hands together back to Yusuke. "Well, what do you say, Yusuke? Want to see a little more of the world?"

Perhaps it was Akira's bright gaze, maybe it was because the first human he had laid eyes on besides Madarame was offering him a way out, or possibly the lingering fatigue from the potion-making was addling his decision-making, but Yusuke found himself irresistibly drawn to Akira's suggestion as he retied the obi around his waist. "Yes. Yes, Akira, I will go with you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When the idea for this story first came to mind, it was pretty much "Akira rescues Yusuke from the tower, and remember that scene where Rapunzel hits Flynn over the head with a frying pan? That."


	4. April 2 (Akira)

Well, this had so far been  _ nothing _ like what Akira had been expecting. Instead of a cabin, there was a tower, and instead of a beautiful girl, there was Yusuke and his frying pan. The back of Akira's head was still throbbing as he helped Yusuke collect things from his tower room, which included what Akira considered an inordinate amount of art supplies, but he held his tongue. "Got everything?" he asked as Yusuke finally closed the knapsack Akira had "borrowed" for him from downstairs.

"I believe so. Food, change of clothes, art supplies..."

"You have strange priorities."

Yusuke shrugged. "My priorities have been developed by fifteen years in this tower. Is there anything that you think I should take that I haven't collected yet?"

"I'd say we should get you some kind of weapon, but I don't think I want to suffer another blunt force trauma to the head."

"In my defense, you broke into my room."

"You know, that's fair. Let's head out, then."

Akira headed down the stairs, realizing when he reached the bottom that Yusuke wasn't behind him. "Yusuke?" he called, frowning when there was no response. When he circled back up the round stairs, he found Yusuke still at the top, foot hovering over the top step. "What's wrong?"

Looking nervous, Yusuke pushed a wayward lock of hair out of his face. "This is it," he said. "If I leave...it will be the first time I've gone against Sensei's wishes, and in such a large way."

Akira came up to stand only a couple steps below him. "If he were a true sensei, he'd want you to see the world. How're you going to paint anything meaningful if you're stuck in here your whole life?"  Yusuke looked conflicted, and Akira held his hand out to him. "Come on. I think you know what the right choice is."

Yusuke hesitated long enough that Akira's arm started to protest being held out, but then he lifted his chin. "You are correct." He placed his hand in Akira's, cool fingers contrasting with the warmth of Akira's palm.

"Let's go." Akira grinned at him, lightly pulling him along, down the stairs and out the door. He'd already pocketed the small amount of money he'd found in a drawer in what must have been Madarame's bedroom and there was nothing else he could easily sell or pawn, so he wasted no time in leading Yusuke outside. Even if they did have a few days before Madarame came back, he was eager to put as much distance between them and the tower as possible.

As they headed into the forest, he realized that Yusuke hadn't let go of his hand, which was probably a good thing -- the artist was staring around at everything with a wide-eyed expression of wonder, like a child seeing something for the first time. Which, Akira reminded himself, was essentially what Yusuke was right now. He was still walking along, though, which was Akira's greatest concern at the moment, even if Akira did have to keep guiding him around tree roots and rocks.

They stopped to rest at a stream a few hours later, at which point Yusuke immediately pulled out a sketchbook and pencil, drawing feverishly. "We shouldn't stop for too long," Akira warned him, reaching his hands into the water and bringing it up to his lips.

"But this is so beautiful -- to see the way the light plays on the water as it flows, and the splashing of the stream! I've only seen this in books. And is that a frog?"

Akira stared down at the stream, at once jealous of Yusuke's wonder-filled excitement and angry at the monster who had kept him locked up for so long. It was almost the exact opposite of his own circumstances: whereas Yusuke had never had the opportunity to fend for himself, Akira couldn't remember a time when he wasn't solely responsible for himself.

He had been maybe four years old when the plague had claimed every living relative he'd had. He'd spent a couple of years being shuffled around the various families of the church, then when he was six he'd been dumped in the back alleys of a large city. Shinjiro, a gruff teenager who always wore a black knit cap and a dark brown coat even in summer, had found him and taught him the ways of thievery, often relying on Akira's natural charm to distract a mark while he deftly relieved them of some of their extra possessions. They had eked out a living together until Akira was ten, and then an altercation with a new gang had left Shinjiro with several fatal stab wounds and Akira alone again. He had been traveling town to town ever since, trying to find a place to belong.

"Are you all right? You look sad."

Yusuke's voice pulled Akira back to the present. "Yeah," he lied. "Just lost in thought. You ready to keep going?"

"Much as I wish I could spend more time capturing the beauty of this stream, I believe so."

"Let's keep going, then. I think we can get to the other edge of the forest by nightfall, and we can find a place to camp there."


	5. April 2 (Yusuke)

Yusuke laid out the bedroll that Akira had found for him in Madarame's possessions, careful to avoid the tree roots jutting out from the ground nearby. There was still a slight chill in the evening spring air, and Yusuke pulled his jacket around him more tightly. Akira was a short distance away, kneeling next to the nearby stream and washing out the battered old tin plate he'd eaten off of. Yusuke watched him thoughtfully.

Akira was nothing like Madarame had led him to believe outsiders were like. Instead of being innately distrustful and antagonistic, he had pulled Yusuke from his solitary life without so much as a second thought, had patiently guided him along all day, and had found this cozy little grove for them to camp in for the night.

Yusuke's fingers itched to draw, to paint something and bring it to life, but he resisted, gently pressing his nails into his palms to make the urge go away. For as much consideration as Akira had shown him, there was still a nagging fear that as soon as he found out about Yusuke's magic, he would shy away from him. Or, worse, drag him into a town and have him burned at the stake. That's what normal people did to witches, wasn't it?

_ I don't think Akira is like that. _

_ But you don't  _ know _ that. _

Yusuke swallowed and looked down. "Thank you," he said to the ground.

"Hm?" Akira looked up from his washing.

"Thank you. For finding me and helping me leave."

"For sure. Nobody deserves to be locked up for their whole life." Akira shook as much water as he could off the plate and came over to sit on his own bedroll, loosening the laces of his boots. "How'd you end up there, anyway? The rumors I heard were pretty vague."

"I'm afraid I don't know much about the circumstances, either. To my knowledge, my mother was a talented artist who was struggling to make a living. Sensei found her in his travels and began tutoring her, not realizing she had become with child. She was unmarried, and the villagers hanged her after I was born. Sensei protected me and moved to the tower to be separate from those who had been so cruel."

Akira was silent as he finished unlacing his boots and tugged them off his feet, before sitting cross-legged and resting his chin on the tips of his fingers. "Something about that story sounds  _ very _ fishy. Madarame didn't realize she was pregnant when he started teaching her? I saw him in town before I left, and it's a good thing you look nothing like him or I'd say he's the one who got her pregnant."

Yusuke wrinkled his nose. The very idea was repulsive.

"And  _ hanging _ someone for having a kid out of wedlock? I know people can have a lot of weird hang-ups, but that sounds pretty far-fetched. Even the most backwards villages I've heard of would just administer a public whipping, not  _ kill _ the mother. Hanging's more for -- for murder, or treason, or way bigger crimes."

_ Like being a witch? _

Yusuke looked down at his own shoes, tugging them off his feet to give him a reason not to look at Akira. A dull feeling of nausea rose in the back of his throat. Perhaps telling Akira that had been a bad idea.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Akira lay down, crossing his arms under his head as he looked over at Yusuke. "I'm sorry for asking." Akira's voice was quiet, barely loud enough to be heard over the crickets. "But listen, Yusuke. I don't care what might've happened then. As far as I can tell, you're a good person and you deserve better than what Madarame was giving you. I dunno what'll happen now, but at the very least you're out, and I can help you figure stuff out. If you want."

"You're quite trusting for a thief."

"You can't survive on the streets if you don't develop a good sense for people. I know what it's like to sleep with a dagger in my hand and one eye open. Sure, you've got a secret. But whatever it is, you don't have it in you to hurt anyone."

"I've got a secret?"

Akira's gaze sharpened in the dimming dusk light. "Madarame wasn't keeping you around out of the goodness of his heart. You have something he wants."

Yusuke turned away under the pretense of trying to get comfortable on the hard ground. Akira's statement hung in the air between them. "And if that's true?"

"He's not going to let you go that easily, Yusuke. He's going to try to get you back. You should think about what that means for you when he does."

It wasn't just the hard ground that kept Yusuke up that night.


	6. April 5 (Akira)

Three days had passed since Akira and Yusuke had left Madarame's tower. From what Yusuke had told him, Madarame would likely return to the tower tonight, only to find it empty and stripped of valuables. Akira could only hope that they were far enough away that Madarame couldn't track them.

He rolled up his bedroll as Yusuke knelt next to the small spring they had camped next to. They hadn't dared linger in the small village they'd passed yesterday -- it was still too close to Madarame for Akira's liking -- but the nights of sleeping on the ground and days of walking were clearly taking a toll on Yusuke. Akira watched him splash water on his face, pushing his now-drenched fringe away from his face. Every movement was sluggish and stiff, and he kept rolling his shoulders back to work out the stiffness.

Idly, Akira glanced down at the sketchbook that was open on the ground. The drawing was exquisite, a strikingly-realistic depiction of a small bird. Akira amused himself for a moment trying to decide what color it would be if Yusuke had access to paints instead of just a pencil; would it be one of the bluebirds he'd seen flying around the tower? Or maybe a bright yellow songbird? Regardless, it looked so real that he wanted to reach out and touch it.

"I am ready to depart."

Akira started slightly. While he'd been busy admiring Yusuke's artwork, Yusuke himself had walked over, wet hair sticking up awkwardly from his forehead. Akira chuckled and reached out to flatten it. Yusuke's eyebrows raised in surprise, but he let Akira fix his hair. "There, now you don't look quite like you just came out of a windy thunderstorm."

By Akira' s calculations, they should be getting close to Nagoya by nightfall, so they would only need to spend one more night camping in the forest before they could get to the city. Even just a tatami floor would be better than the ground, and Nagoya had a reputation for having fine artisans and craftsmen who often took on apprentices. With any luck, both he and Yusuke could find work.

The walk was much quieter than usual. Yusuke was still looking around at the scenery, but with less of his usual enthusiasm. Akira sighed quietly. "Hey, Yusuke," he said, breaking the silence. "What kind of art can you do? I know you can draw and paint, but do you do, say, sculpture, or anything like that?"

Yusuke shook his head. "I read a few books on pottery, but I lacked the equipment to make any attempts myself. I've worked almost entirely with pencils and paints. Why do you ask?"

"Just trying to think of places you might be able to apprentice. I dunno if you could find a way to live  _ just _ off your painting immediately, but you could probably find something art-related. Or maybe a tailor? Fashion is kind of like art, right?"

"In a sense, yes. I have repaired my own garments before, though I've never needed to make clothes from scratch before. The concept seems straightforward, though. I expect I could pick it up rather easily."

"Might start with that, then. I'd be surprised if there wasn't at least one tailor who could take on an apprentice in Nagoya."

"That sounds interesting."

They walked on, and Akira noticed that Yusuke was looking more at his feet than around him. Sensing there was a question coming, Akira waited. The birds chirped around them and a squirrel skittered across the path ahead of them before Yusuke spoke.

"What if I can't find anything?"

Akira shrugged. "I'll help you out if you can't. Worst case, if there really isn't anything in Nagoya, we can work our way to Osaka and try there. We've got some options."

"Have you traveled out this way before?"

"No. I came from the north. Figured there might be more opportunities down south, with the bigger cities."

"What's it like?"

"You mean where I came from?" Akira shrugged. "It was fine, I guess, as long as you weren't poor. But a lot of the merchants and craftsmen had their little in-groups, and good luck getting into one of them without being related to somebody in it. Didn't help that nobody in the church would hold onto me long enough for me to be associated with any one family. I'm sure I have a surname recorded somewhere, but hell if I know what it is. I've always just been Akira the nobody."

Yusuke looked thoughtful. "Sensei told me my surname is 'Kitagawa', but I am unsure whether that is actually the name associated with my family or if he merely gave it to me so I would stop asking him about it."

"Does it _feel_ like it belongs to you? Like, if I were to introduce you to someone as 'Kitagawa Yusuke', does that feel right to you?"

Akira held his tongue from saying his thoughts, that the name flowed together like the river his surname indicated, until Yusuke had had a chance to mull it over in his head. "Yes," he said finally. "It does feel right to me."

"Then it doesn't matter if it's your birth name or not. It's yours now."

"You speak very decisively." Yusuke's tone was warm, and Akira laughed.

"That's the nicest way I've ever been told how bossy I am."

"Truly, I meant it as a compliment."

"I know. But sometimes people don't like to be told things bluntly."

"It's very straightforward. You only speak your truth."

"My truth, huh? You...have never seen me lie my way out of getting arrested."

Yusuke tripped over a tree root, apparently too busy watching Akira to look where he was going. On reflex, Akira caught his arm to steady him, his good mood souring a bit as they came to a stop. He wasn't sure _why_ it was suddenly so important that this eccentric artist he had only met three days ago know that he wasn't some shining beacon of truth and goodness,  but it seemed imperative that he did. "Yusuke -- why do you trust me?"

"That's a strange question." Yusuke searched Akira's eyes, and though Akira had been the one to start this topic of conversation, he was suddenly the one feeling uncomfortable. "You have shown me nothing but kindness. I have no reason to distrust you."

"You shouldn't trust people so easily. You don't know who's actually going to back you up and who's waiting to stab you in the back."

Yusuke pursed his lips, clearly frustrated, but made no move to get out of Akira's grasp. "I've been nothing but an inconvenience to you this whole time, and you get nothing out of taking me along. If you wanted to take me hostage in exchange for ransom, you would have stayed closer to the tower. If you wanted to kill me, you could have done so a hundred times over. You may lie to get by, but you are not a liar by nature. And as for not trusting people so easily...did you not rescue me upon the hearsay of a random bar patron, and accept my story of my past without question?"

Akira bit his lip, frowning. Maybe he had misjudged Yusuke. He was remarkably observant for someone who had spent his whole life alone with art and books. "You're quite something, you know that?" He realized he was still holding onto Yusuke's arm and let go, turning away to face the path. "Try not to trip on any more tree roots, okay? I don't know if I'll be ready for another heart-to-heart for a while."


	7. April 6 (Yusuke)

Yusuke was exceedingly glad that Akira was there to guide him as they walked the streets of Nagoya. The descriptions he had read of bustling cities fell very short of preparing him for the noise, and the buildings, and the sheer number of people. He wanted to look around more, but it was all that he could do to not lose sight of Akira's dark curls in front of him as they weaved in and out of crowds.

Akira led him down an alley with market stalls along one side, and the sounds of the different merchants hawking their wares echoed in the narrow space between the buildings. They emerged onto a wider, slightly less congested street, and Akira glanced up and down it before nodding, as if he had found something. He turned to the left, glancing behind him to make sure Yusuke was still following, and headed up the steps into a nearby building.

Inside was much dimmer, and it took Yusuke's eyes a moment to adjust as Akira wove his way between tables to the bar in the back ( _ ah, this must be a tavern _ ). The man behind the bar was drying a glass with a threadbare, but clean, towel as he looked up. "What can I do you for?"

"My friend and I -- " Akira gestured towards Yusuke -- "fell on some hard times in our hometown, and we're here looking for work. Know anyone who might be looking for an apprentice?"

"Apprentice, huh?" The bartender put away the glass and picked up another. "What kind of craft are you looking for? There's the guild for blacksmiths, armorers, and the like; could probably find someone willing to take you on there."

"Any potters, or tailors, or someone like that?"

"Funny you should ask. Old man Haruhito was in here the other day. He's a tailor -- finest one in Nagoya, pretty much -- and his previous apprentice was thrown from his horse and passed away last week. He was supposed to take over the shop in a few years and everything. He might be willing, if he thinks you have the talent."

"Sounds like that might be up your alley, Yusuke."

Yusuke nodded. Surely working with cloth and thread was something he could learn; there was an artistry to garments, as well as canvas and paper. "Where might I find this gentleman?"

"He's here for a glass of mead regular as clockwork, right at seven. Catch him then."

"And the blacksmiths' guild?" Akira asked.

"Down the alley, to the right on the main street, couple doors down. You can't miss it; there's a large forge outside." His gaze swiveled back to Yusuke. "So you're the one who's going to be talking to Haruhito? You've got some time on your hands, then. What's your name?"

"Yusuke."

"You can call me Asahi. If you want, you could stick around here and help me out for the day. Would cover room and board for the two of you for a night."

Swallowing his nerves at the idea of being in an unfamiliar area without Akira, Yusuke nodded again. "I can do that."

"Excellent. Start with wiping down the tables. Cloths are there -- " pointing to a small cabinet behind the bar -- "and the sink is here. When you're done with that, put the chairs upside down on the tables and sweep the floor. Broom and dustpan are in that closet over there and you can dump the dust outside that back door."

Akira gave him an encouraging smile as he headed out, and Yusuke got to work on the tables. He was still a bit tired from their trek here, but the cleaning was not terribly strenuous work, and he found it oddly relaxing to scrub away the remnants of dried food and spilled drink. Once he had finished, he retrieved the broom and dustpan, humming a small tune as he started in one corner of the room.

It was midafternoon when someone else entered. The _thunk_ of heavy boots on the wooden floor caused Asahi to look up again. "Afternoon, you old sot. Been wondering if you'd forgotten where I was."

"Is that any way to speak to a member of the Royal Guard?" the newcomer said, in a gruff voice. "I could have you beheaded by nightfall."

"And I could swap your top-shelf whiskey with the swill that's left in the beer kegs at the end of the night. Who would really be the loser there, hm?"

"Never change your horribly misguided priorities."

"So what brings you to town, Sakura?"

The guard heaved a heavy sigh. "The same fool's errand we go on every year."

"They're still looking for her? Gods above, it's been almost seventeen years. She's either dead or left the country. Or both."

"You and I both know this will only end when the king passes. I can only hope the council can pick a suitable heir when the time comes."

"Of all the times for the king to not remarry after the death of his queen. A shame she died in childbirth of their first child."

"Of course." The guard grunted. "So we're out here again, making our yearly pilgrimage to see if anyone has been seen matching her description. Or, at this point, if anyone has seen a woman who looks like our artist's rendering of what she might look like seventeen years after anyone has seen her."

"Mm. Well, as always, I've been keeping my eyes peeled, and I've seen no one matching that description. Although -- Yusuke."

Yusuke started at the sound of his own name. "Yes?"

"You're not from around here. Why don't you look at this drawing? Seen anyone who looks like this?"

The guard held out the picture for him to take, and Yusuke looked at it. Long, straight hair fell gracefully around her shoulders. In her right hand was a fan brush, a detail that seemed odd to include in a drawing of a woman missing for nearly twenty years. "Was she an artist?"

"Noticed that, did you? She sure was. Charcoal, oils, leaves, mud -- if it stuck to a surface she could make art out of it. Never really took lessons, either; she was far more talented than any of the tutors they could find."

Yusuke continued staring at the drawing. It felt...familiar, somehow...but he could say with certainty that he had never seen her before. "I am afraid I am of no help in your search."

The guard's eyes lingered on him for a moment before he shrugged. "Eh, it's the longest of long shots at this point."

Yusuke returned to his sweeping, finishing up just as the guard left. Asahi set him to cleaning the rooms upstairs, stripping and replacing the covers of the futons. He had just finished as the tavern started to fill up for the evening. Akira walked in, looking tired and with a smudge of soot across his forehead, but he grinned when he saw Yusuke. "Got a job with the blacksmith."

"And here comes Haruhito," Asahi said, nodding towards the old man who had just sat down at the other end of the bar. He hurried over, chatting with the man for a bit as he poured mead into a tankard. Haruhito turned to look at Yusuke at that point, beckoning him over.

"So you're Yusuke," he said, without preamble. "Asahi says you have an interest in becoming a tailor. Is that correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"What qualifications do you possess?"

"I am an artist. I understand the composition of a piece, what provides an accent or a common theme. I believe I can apply that to clothing, as well."

"Ever worked a sewing machine before?"

Yusuke hesitated. "No."

"Sewn by hand?"

"A small amount."

"Tell me how the idea of staring at a complicated piece of embroidery for hours as you painstakingly stitch a delicate design for a fussy and demanding client makes you feel."

"I would bring my utmost effort and attention to the task at hand. Any type of art requires time and effort."

Haruhito looked him up and down with narrowed eyes. "Be at my shop at seven o'clock sharp tomorrow. You said you're an artist? Bring a sketch, or a painting, or whatever you have to showcase what you can do in your element. I will give you a piece to work on and some basic instruction in technique. At the end of the day, I will evaluate what you've done. If I feel you have sufficient talent, I'll take you as an apprentice. Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. You can find my shop two doors south of here. Seven o'clock sharp, remember." He turned back to his mead, signaling the conversation was over.

Yusuke made his way back to where Akira was now wolfing down a bowl of stew. Asahi sat an identical bowl in front of Yusuke before hurrying off to serve another patron. "How'd it go?" Akira asked, in between bites. The soot from earlier was still there, now an even larger smudge on his forehead.

"I have to go to his shop tomorrow to show him a work of mine, and to attempt a task he will set for me. At the end of the day, he will decide if I am worthy to take on as an apprentice."

"Congratulations, Yusuke. You'll do great."

"And you? You found work with the blacksmith?"

"Sure did. Right now I'm just doing simple stuff and some grunt work, but he was impressed with what little I did actually do and said I have a good attitude."

"That's important for any craft. You won't be nearly as effective if you frustrate easily."

"True." Akira swallowed the last of his stew, stifling a yawn. "I think I'm going to head to bed soon. Turns out carrying supplies around for a blacksmith is hard work."

"That sounds ideal."

After retrieving the key for the room from Asahi, they headed upstairs. Yusuke recognized the room as one of the ones he had cleaned earlier that day. He knelt down next to his pack, retrieving the sleeping clothes he had brought from the tower. Since he was finally not sleeping in a bedroll on the ground outdoors, it felt worth it to change out of his day clothes to sleep. He glanced over his shoulder, checking that Akira was occupied looking through his own pack before quickly changing clothes, folding up his other outfit and placing it on the floor next to his pack.

A small amount of moonlight filtered in through the window as Yusuke settled into the futon, watching Akira deposit his earnings for the day into the coin purse he kept in his pack. Akira glanced up, catching him watching. "So are you glad you're here?"

"A bit anxious, but I am cautiously optimistic. I will wait for full optimism until I have confirmed that I have gainful employment."

"That sounds like you."

"And you? Are you excited?"

Akira crawled into the other futon. "Sure. It's always nice to get to a new town. Nobody has any preconceived notions about me. And this place is far enough away from Joetsu that I doubt anyone from there would come here and recognize me."

"Is that a concern of yours?"

"Not...terribly? Anyone who had a problem there had a problem with my -- well, my mentor, for lack of a better term. Nobody really cared what a ten-year-old kid was doing as long as he kept his nose out of everyone's business. It might've been more of a problem if I'd been a few years older, but no. Even if someone did come here, I don’t think  _ they _ would have a problem with  _ me. _ I just...don't want the reminder." He turned away from Yusuke, facing the opposite wall.

Sensing the conversation was over, Yusuke turned over himself, trying to get comfortable. Between his questions about what Akira didn't want to remember, and his anxiety about proving himself to Haruhito tomorrow, it was a long time before he fell asleep.


	8. April 7 (Akira)

Akira woke when the sun was just starting to peek over the horizon. The clock read half past five. He glanced over at Yusuke, frowning a little when he shifted restlessly in his sleep. His hair was tousled and sticking out in all directions, as if he had spent most of his night tossing and turning.

Moving quietly so as not to wake Yusuke quite yet, Akira changed into his day clothes and tried to tame his hair as best as he could with his fingers, examining it from a couple angles in the small cracked mirror hanging on the wall. He would certainly look out of place in church, but for working, it would do.

He waited a few more minutes before crouching down next to Yusuke's futon. "Good morning, sunshine," he said, just loud enough to wake him.

Yusuke's eyelids flickered open and he groaned a little. "Is it morning already?"

"Sure is. Didn't know how much time you might need to get your stuff ready, so figured I'd err on the side of waking you a little early."

"You have my gratitude." Yusuke sat up, reaching over to his pack and pulling out his sketchbook to flip through it.

"You need to pick something to show that tailor guy, right?"

"Yes." Yusuke sighed, looking increasingly dissatisfied as he turned the pages. "If only I had had time to prepare something satisfactory...."

"Yusuke, all your drawings are incredible. What about that one of the bird you were working on while we were traveling? Or didn't you draw that spring a couple days ago?"

"But those were merely sketches!" Yusuke's dissatisfaction was quickly turning to distress as he looked up at Akira.

Akira took advantage of his distraction to swipe the sketchbook from his hands, flipping through it. This must have been a fresh book he grabbed when they left the tower; the stream they'd stopped at the first day was on the first page, charcoal water with fine enough detail that Akira could almost hear it splashing as his eyes roved over it. Birds, flowers, one of their campfires, even a sketch of Akira himself. "Not satisfactory, my ass," he grumbled. He turned back to the bird he'd seen before. "Show him this one. I swear this bird is going to come to life and sing to me if I look at it long enough."

Color flooded Yusuke’s cheeks as Akira handed the sketchbook back to him, but there was something else in his eyes besides embarrassment. Guilt? Fear? Akira couldn't quite identify it before Yusuke was looking back down at the drawing, sighing. "I suppose you are right. This will do under the circumstances."

"There you go." Akira draped an arm around Yusuke's shoulders with a comforting squeeze, hoping to make him feel better. "Hurry up and get dressed, won't you? I'm ready for breakfast."


	9. April 7 (Yusuke)

With the drawing of the songbird carefully clutched to his chest, Yusuke made his way out of the tavern and down the street. Memories of the various challenges Madarame had set for him in past months rose unbidden to his mind, and he pressed his tongue to his teeth to fight back the bile rising in the back of his throat. He  _ had _ passed some of those challenges, he reminded himself, and while Haruhito seemed to be a no-nonsense sort of person, it was possible his expectations would not be on the same level as Madarame's.

More than that, Akira believed in him, and remembering that eased the tension in his chest. It was surprising that someone he had met not even a week ago could already provide that sort of reassurance, but there was something about him that Yusuke couldn't help but be drawn to. Confidence and skill born of a life on the streets, yet kindness and softness that such a life hadn't stamped out.

He stopped short, realizing he was already in front of the shop. In the front windows, a pair of outfits were on display. To the left of the door was a formal gown with intricate beading and embroidery. Yusuke could tell how much work had clearly gone into the decoration, but beyond that, the lines and seams of the garment were beyond reproach, indicating a care for the entire piece. To the right was a man's suit, pieced together meticulously. Everything was crisp, seams and pressed creases in precisely the right places.

At that moment, he saw Haruhito watching him from inside the shop, and hurried in before his nerves could get the best of him. "Tell me," the old man said, keen eyes evaluating everything about Yusuke, "what did you notice about those garments out front?"

"Both outfits have an elegance about them. While the embroidery and beading on the dress are both quite intricate, the low contrast between the coloring of the majority of the decoration and the material of the dress lend it a sort of understated beauty, and it allows the small flourishes of color to stand out. From an aesthetic standpoint, it makes an excellent pair with the suit. I could quite clearly imagine a couple wearing those outfits together to a formal event. And the care taken to stitch the pieces together is quite apparent. The seams are even and symmetrical. I know comparatively little about tailoring, but I do know when someone cares about their work."

Haruhito nodded, a satisfied smile on his face. "Very good, Yusuke. Show me the piece you brought."

Yusuke handed over the drawing, feeling like he had passed a test he was not aware was being set for him. He waited in silence as Haruhito examined the bird. "You've quite the eye for nature," he said. "I wonder what this bird is thinking. Is it at ease, satisfied with a good day of being a bird? Is it about to sing to its mate? There is a glint in its eye that I find quite intriguing."

He handed the drawing back to Yusuke, before motioning for him to follow to the back of the shop. "Today will be about artistic interpretation and basic techniques. Take a moment to look at this painting."

Yusuke's eyes widened and he had to stop himself from exclaiming. This...this was one of _his._ He could remember it quite clearly. It was a challenge Madarame had set for him not quite a year ago, right around the time that the potion-painting had started taking its toll on Yusuke. "Paint a garden," Madarame had said after downing the potion, either not noticing or not caring that Yusuke was swaying on his feet and barely able to maintain consciousness. "Incorporate whatever elements you think embody the traditional Japanese spirit, and truly make me  _ feel _ like I am standing in the flowers."

He had deemed Yusuke's painting a failure, criticizing everything from the placement of the light to an inconsistency in the bridge railing, and had taken it away to destroy it. So how was it here? Why was it signed? Why would Madarame put his name on something he had deemed inadequate? He realized Haruhito was speaking again and mentally shook himself.

"Imagine a skirt inspired by this painting. What motifs would you pull out? How would you incorporate them in a repeating pattern? I'll teach you some basic stitches and then give you a few hours to work."

The embroidery needle felt unfamiliar in Yusuke's fingers; while he was used to doing fine detail work, even the smallest paintbrush was much larger than the small silver implement he had been given, but at the very least he could get it pulled through the fabric, only occasionally stabbing it into the fingers of his left hand as he held the square of muslin stretched out inside an embroidery hoop. Once Haruhito was satisfied with his grasp of some basic stitches, he disappeared to the front of the shop, leaving Yusuke alone with his own painting, an assortment of embroidery threads, and lingering questions about his sensei.

He shook his head, forcing himself to look at the scene impassively. The bridge was a strong arch, so perhaps it could serve as the basis for a border at the bottom? He picked out a red thread to match the bridge, threading it through the needle and tying a knot in the other end as he'd been shown, working it into a repeating scallop of chain stitch. He frowned as he reached the other end; his stitches were uneven in length, but at least he had maintained a consistent curvature.

A thinner stitch in a light brown mirrored the red arches a short distance above them to serve as a railing, and small knots of light blue for the smallest blossoms. Small leaves around the clusters of embarrassingly inconsistent flowers. Curves of yellow swirled around to evoke the feeling of sunlight. Perhaps a vine with pale green leaves here?

He had become so absorbed in his work that he jumped when Haruhito tapped him on the shoulder, involuntarily letting out a small cry when the needle stabbed his left index finger for what felt like the thousandth time. "Let's see what you've got."

He took the embroidery hoop from Yusuke's hands, examining it. "Not bad, not bad," he mused. "It would take some modifications to be suitable for clothing, but you did a surprisingly good job of pulling out the essential elements and translating them to threadwork. Your stitches are inconsistent, but I can see progress even just within this small amount. I can work with you."

"Does -- does that mean -- "

"Yes, I'll take you as my apprentice. Now, let's teach you how to use a sewing machine."

Relief flooded through Yusuke as he followed Haruhito over to the bulky machine in the corner. If his artistry was up to Haruhito's standards, he had no doubt that he would be able to learn whatever tools and techniques were necessary. It was as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders as he sat down at the machine to learn.


	10. April 14 (Akira)

Akira hung up the tongs, stretching his arms and rolling his shoulders to try to work out some of the lingering ache. He was starting to get used to the constant hammering and carrying heavy metal pieces back and forth, but it was still quite a far cry from his usual work of distracting unsuspecting rich people and deftly plucking coins from pockets. At least the blisters on his hands were turning into calluses. The first couple of days he had been in such pain that Yusuke had had to help him bandage his hands with a healing salve so his palms would stop throbbing long enough for him to get to sleep.

Tatsuya, the blacksmith who owned the shop and forge, was counting coins behind the shop's counter when Akira entered. "Good work today," he said, barely looking up as he pushed a small pile of coins towards Akira. "Here are your wages for the week. When you come back in on Monday, I'll have you start working on something a little more interesting than nails and hammers."

"Thank you, sir."

Tatsuya chuckled. "Wait to thank me until you see how you like twisting metal. Now go, enjoy your day off."

Akira headed down the street, walking quickly towards the tailor shop. While the hostel Asahi had pointed them to included a simple dinner in the price of their lodging, they still needed to get supplies for the rest of their meals. Plus, with some of what was left over from what they had taken from Madarame's tower, Akira wanted to get a new pair of boots; his current ones had been discards he had found in an alley, and the kilometers he had walked to get here had not done them any favors.

Yusuke was coming out of the shop just as Akira came up to it, and he inclined his head in greeting. "I was not expecting you to meet me here so quickly."

"I finished up with Tatsuya a little early. Come on, let's get going before all the shops close."

This was the first time Akira had taken Yusuke with him to get supplies; last weekend, once they had found a place to live, Akira had left him to draw in the room while he went to get food, figuring it was late and doing the shopping himself would be faster than waiting for Yusuke to examine every little thing that caught his interest. Not that he minded so much; even two weeks hadn't dulled the charm of Yusuke's innocence for him yet, but he had also wanted to be able to get what they needed before everything closed.

Today, though, Yusuke seemed lost in thought, still looking around but seeming like he wasn't actually taking in much of the sights. "What's going on in that head of yours?" Akira finally asked as they emerged from the last shop they needed to go to, purchases secure in their packs.

"Hm?" Yusuke frowned in confusion.

"You seem distracted. Thinking about something?"

Yusuke glanced around to see if anyone was listening. "The dress I am assisting Haruhito with is inspired by a painting," he said quietly. "It is a painting of my own that Sensei deemed inadequate, and yet it is here, bearing his signature. I do not understand."

"Uh...he wanted to keep you feeling inadequate so you'd get too distracted by trying to be better that you wouldn't think about why you were being locked up in that tower?"

A shadow passed over Yusuke's face. "Perhaps," he said slowly. "My other question is how this painting came to be so far away. To my knowledge, Sensei sold paintings only in villages within a day's travel of the tower."

"Somebody bought it and resold it? Or maybe somebody bought it and then moved here?"

"Those are both plausible explanations," Yusuke conceded, "though I cannot help but worry that Sensei has connections here that I am unaware of."

"That shouldn't really be too much of a problem for you, should it? Even if there was someone connected to him here, would they be able to recognize you? Since you were alone in that tower this whole time?"

"I suppose not," Yusuke said reluctantly.

Akira rested his hand comfortingly on Yusuke's shoulder. "Then try not to let it worry you too much. If it turns out there's more evidence of a connection here, then you can start worrying again. But you can't just worry about every possibility all the time or you'll go insane."

They had to stop talking as they entered the hostel common area, lively with residents trickling in for dinner, but Akira saw Yusuke nod his thanks for the reassurance as they grabbed food and ate quickly.

Despite his reassuring words to Yusuke, Akira mulled over the situation as they ate, trying to determine what urgency there might be about the situation.

_ Fact one, one of Yusuke's paintings is here, under Madarame's name. _

_ Fact two, it's in possession of his current teacher. _

_ Fact three, Yusuke's concerned about being recognized here. _

That was all he knew for sure. It seemed like it would take a fair bit of effort for Madarame to track them down, and it would require him to have a contact here in Nagoya who could recognize Yusuke despite his lifelong solitary confinement in the tower. It wasn't  _ impossible, _ but it would require a few different pieces to line up to make it happen.

He said none of this, however, choosing instead to enjoy the stew. As he had already said to Yusuke, they would reevaluate the situation if and when they needed to.


	11. April 20 (Yusuke)

It was a bright and sunny Sunday morning when Yusuke woke up. The sun still seemed to be fairly low in the sky still, but as usual, Akira had already awoken before him. "Morning, sunshine."

Yusuke blinked at him. "I question your consistent description of my disposition when I first wake as 'sunny'," he mumbled.

"I mean, I could greet you in the morning with 'hey, grumpy', but I feel like that would become a self-fulfilling prophecy."

Yusuke stretched his arms over his head. "You have a point, I suppose." He got to his feet and pulled open the drawer in the tiny dresser that held his single change of clothes. "Laundry day today, I suppose."

"Eh, it won't take too long. And it's sunny and breezy, so the clothes shouldn't take too long to dry on the line. We can take care of that right away and then get on with the rest of our day."

"You say that like you have plans."

Akira flashed him a grin. "We've been here for a couple of weeks; why don't we head out to the coast and take a walk? Since I'm guessing you've never seen the ocean?"

Yusuke felt the familiar excitement of potential new inspiration coursing through him at Akira's words. "Only in books."

"That's nothing like the real thing. Come on, let's take care of laundry and get going. Nagoya's right on the coast; it shouldn't take us long to find a good place to watch the waves."

Breakfast eaten, clothes washed and hung to dry, and an hour's meandering walk found them clambering over some rocks by the sea. Atop one of the larger ones, Yusuke shaded his eyes, looking out across the sparkling waters. Light spray misted him as waves broke against the rocks jutting out into the water. "This is -- " he could almost taste the salt as he tried to find words that were adequate to communicate the feeling of staring out over the ocean.

"Breathtaking? Amazing? Beautiful?" Akira suggested, standing next to him with his hands in his pockets.

"All of those things and more. I feel rather overwhelmed at the moment."

Akira stood silently with him for a few minutes, as he closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the waves. He could still see the ocean in his mind, and he turned slowly on his heel so the waves were to his left, visualizing the curve of the coast in front of him. It was a process he had gone through many times before, sharpening his ability to translate what he could see to what he might later paint.

When he opened his eyes to compare what he was envisioning with reality, he immediately saw a man a short distance away who had not been there when they had first arrived. He appeared to be looking out at the ocean as they were, but Yusuke had an uncomfortable feeling that he had been watching the two of them. "Akira," he said in a low voice.

"Yup," came the immediate response from behind him. "Think we should talk to him?"

Yusuke turned slowly back to the ocean so he could see Akira out of the corner of his eye. "That seems dangerous to me, but I will trust your judgement."

"Just follow my lead, and don't volunteer any information you don't have to." Without anything further, Akira sauntered down the beach, and Yusuke scrambled to follow.

The man turned to look at them as they approached, and Yusuke recognized him as the guard that had come in to talk to Asahi the first day they had arrived in Nagoya. "Ah, aren’t you the kid who was working for Asahi a couple weeks ago?"

"Yes."

"Fancy meeting you again. I assumed you were just passing through."

"Oh, we haven't decided if we're sticking around,” Akira said easily. "Just picking up work while we're here. You've been here for a couple weeks, then?"

The man grunted. "No, we passed through on the way to Kyoto. Every year, a contingent of royal guards are sent out to search for the Princess Miyu."

Akira frowned. "Hasn't she been missing for -- "

" -- seventeen years, yes." The guard made a wry face. "But the king has still not given up hope that she'll be found." He patted his breast pocket, pulling out the worn paper with the drawing on it that he had shown Yusuke at the tavern. "I don't suppose you've seen anyone who looks like this?"

Akira took the paper, studying it carefully. In the daylight, Yusuke could see the drawing's features more clearly. In addition to the paintbrush in her hand, there was another one stuck through the bun in her hair. The look in her eyes was one of intense, yet gentle, concentration. And again, there was that feeling of familiarity, but if she had been missing for longer than Yusuke had been alive --

Akira shook his head, handing the drawing back to the guard. "Afraid I haven't. If by some chance I do see someone like her in the future, what should I do?"

The guard sighed again. "Well, if you can talk to her, just -- try to let her know her father misses her and wants her to come home. Otherwise, just notify one of the city guards and they'll get word to us." His gaze lingered on Yusuke as he slowly folded the portrait back up and put it away.

"Good luck with your search," Akira said.

"Thanks...."

They didn't speak to each other until they were back among the crowds of the city. "Why did he keep looking at me?" Yusuke asked, still feeling somewhat unnerved by the guard's last persistent stare.

Akira said nothing, but Yusuke saw a slight crease in his brow, as if he were considering the question. "Well, you _do_ kind of look like her," he said finally. 

Yusuke looked incredulously at him.

"Hey, don't look at me like that! I'm just telling you what I see.  It probably doesn't really matter anyway. I doubt we'll see him again."

"We've seen him twice already."

"I mean, _you've_ seen him twice already,” Akira corrected him. "But I doubt they send the same guards on the same route every year."

"Perhaps you are correct."

Yusuke bit his lip, but followed Akira into the hostel. Even though Akira seemed unworried, he couldn't help but wonder why that guard was out on the beach; it didn't seem like that was a particularly good way to perform a search for a missing person. He supposed there was no reason to dwell on the matter any longer, though, and tried to push it out of his mind. He had enough to worry about with work as it was.


	12. April 28 (Akira)

Akira yawned as he approached the anvil with a glowing hot piece of metal that was destined to become part of a railing. Yusuke had been up for most of the night in their shared room at the hostel, and even though he had tried to shield Akira from the candlelight he was embroidering by, the flickering light and scissors snipping thread had awoken him more times than he would have liked. But he knew Yusuke was working on a complicated commission on a tight deadline, so he said nothing and pretended he had slept through everything.

Carefully, he started hammering, holding the rod steady with the tongs. As long as he was careful, he'd be fine despite being tired. These bars weren't very intricate, so they were pretty much the perfect task for the day.

Tatsuya crossed his arms as he came over, nodding in satisfaction. "You've progressed well in this month, Akira," he said. "Keep this up and I'll be able to assign you some more complex work soon. With a corresponding pay rise, of course."

"I'll do my best."

The routine was comfortable at this point: wake up early, eat a quick breakfast with Yusuke, work at the forge for the day, and go home. It had been years since Akira had had a fixed place to call  _ home, _ and a warm feeling always rose in his chest when he thought about it. He would have never thought that things would work out as well as they had. Perhaps all he had needed to do was travel away from where he'd spent most of his childhood.

And stumble into a rumor about someone locked up in a tower to be rescued. Like most normal days.

When he got back to their room, he found it still empty. Yusuke must have opted to stay at the shop to work instead of bringing it back here. He supposed that made sense; the shop had better lighting for detail work. It still didn't keep him from feeling a slight pang of loneliness.

He went down to the common area for dinner, making idle chitchat with one of the other residents as he ate, before heading back up to the still-dark room. He changed clothes, yawning widely. As he reached to put the lantern out, the doorknob turned, and Yusuke entered, looking absolutely dead on his feet.

"Please tell me that commission is done," Akira said.

Yusuke shook his head. "No, but Haruhito sent me home and forbade me from taking anything with me to work on tonight."

"Did you eat today? You look pale."

Yusuke's eyebrows creased slightly, as if he were struggling to remember. "I believe so?"

"That's not convincing." Akira dug in his pack, producing a wrapped strip of jerky he had bought in case he needed something quick to eat during the day. "Here, at least eat this before you go to bed."

Yusuke accepted the food gratefully. "Thank you, Akira."

"Yup. How much longer do you think this commission will take?"

"We should be able to complete it tomorrow. Haruhito said that once this is done, he will close the shop for a day."

"That'll be a nice break."

"Indeed. I intend to rest and paint. It has been too long since I have held a brush."

"You painted last weekend."

"I have not painted  _ since _ last weekend. That is too long."

Akira chuckled. "Well, you'll have the room to yourself. I'll still have to work that day."

Yusuke finished up the jerky, and Akira turned towards the wall to give him privacy to change clothes. "Are you done with the lantern?" Yusuke asked a minute later.

"Yup." Akira covered his mouth as another yawn escaped him. As Yusuke blew out the flame of the lantern, Akira turned over, settling into a comfortable position. "Any idea what you'll paint?"

Yusuke hummed thoughtfully in the darkness. "I'd like to incorporate elements of nature with the backdrop of the town. An illustration of my path here, I suppose."

"That sounds great. I hope you'll show me when you're done."

Yusuke chuckled. "As if I could hide it from you. Yes, I will gladly show it to you when I'm done." He yawned. "Though for now...I think I shall sleep."

"Yup, sleep sounds like a good idea."


	13. April 30 (Yusuke)

Sunlight was streaming through the window by the time Yusuke woke up for the day. Akira was long gone, as he expected. Though he knew he should acquire food, his fingers ached for his brush. Not for the first time, he shrugged off earthly needs for the pursuit of beauty.

He barely even needed a sketch first. He could see it clearly in his mind's eye: a single small bird that had been perched on the shop's windowsill as he had worked yesterday, watching him inquisitively with its small round eyes. Colors mixed, brush dipped in, and the bottom of the windowsill was given form on the small canvas.

He worked meticulously, small strokes giving form to the feathers, angle to the beak, glint to the eyes. Claws rested pertly on top of the wood sill. Soft strokes blurred together into the background, giving the impression of a busy street behind. Near the window, a dark-haired boy was walking past, hands in his pockets, and Yusuke felt warmth rising in his face as he realized who he had unintentionally painted. Well, he might as well own it at this point; he added a bit more detail to the hair, making the tousled curls apparent.

When that was done, he sat back, casting an appraising eye at the painting. A small smile curved his lips, and without thinking, he held his hand out, letting the magic flow out of his fingertips into the canvas, illuminating it with a soft golden light --

The door opened behind him as the light encircled the bird on the canvas, and he suddenly felt as if the air had left his lungs --

"Yusuke, did you -- where did that bird come from?"

Akira's voice sounded curious rather than accusatory as he hurriedly closed the door behind him, but everything Madarame had ever told him about outsiders, and burning witches at the stake, and his mother dying screamed through his head and he found himself frozen in mute terror as Akira came closer.

"Yusuke?"

_ This is it. I should never have left the tower. Why did I not control my foolish impulses? _

"Yusuke, are you okay? You look like you're about to pass out."

"I'm sorry," were the only words Yusuke could muster.

"Huh? Sorry? For what, the bird? I mean, I don't want it to poop on my stuff, but other than that I don't care."

"For -- " Yusuke stared at him. "Aren't you going to turn me in?"

"What?" Akira stared back, looking as confused as Yusuke felt. "Did you forget to eat again? You're not making any sense. I don't have any idea what I would turn you in for."

The bird hopped up on Yusuke's hand, and he winced as it clawed its way up his arm to his shoulder.

"What are you trying to tell me, Yusuke? Or -- well, not tell me, I guess?"

"Magic."

The single word fell from his lips with the weight of a brick, and he closed his eyes, bracing himself --

"Really?  _ That's _ what's got you all worked up?"

Yusuke felt something against his shoulder, and he opened his eyes to see the bird stepping up onto Akira's outstretched finger where he had placed it on Yusuke's shoulder. Akira gazed at the small creature. "Why would  _ I _ turn you in for that?"

"It's -- magic is illegal....Sensei always said -- "  


"I'm getting the sense that your so-called sensei taught you mostly bullshit. I'm your  _ friend, _ Yusuke. I'm not telling anyone."

"You're -- not?"

"You sweet, handsome idiot. No. I don't care what the laws say. You wouldn't hurt anyone."

There were at least three or four questions that Yusuke wanted to ask, but his traitorous tongue only uttered, "Handsome?"

He clapped his hands over his mouth as Akira grinned fondly at him. "That's what you picked up out of that? Yeah, I think you're good-looking."

Yusuke had no idea how to respond to that, feeling his face growing warm as he lowered his hands. The bird, apparently bored with Akira, took flight and landed on the windowsill.

"So -- what  _ is _ your magic? What does it do?"

Yusuke turned to the canvas, lightly running his fingers over its edges. "I can bring my art to life. It doesn't last long, but if I can paint or draw it, I can manifest it in reality. The closer it is to its real-world counterpart, the easier it is for me, but it even works with certain abstract concepts."

"Like what?"

Yusuke frowned, thinking back all those years ago to when Madarame had first led him to the discovery of the potion he’d been painting ever since. How had he explained it? "Life. I could think about the essence of living and imbue it into a potion. I have been creating this potion for Sensei for many years."

"So it's like a fountain of youth type of thing?"

"It seems to reverse the effects of aging. I can only make it last for a few months at a time, though."

Akira crossed his arms, looking thoughtful. "What's the catch?"

"For the drinker? Nothing, as far as I can tell."

"But there's one for you?"

Even the memory of forcing the strands of magic out until they snapped made Yusuke wince. "It is a painful and exhausting process. There is no real mold for the magic to take a temporary shape in, so I must create the shape in my mind and sever the connection between it and myself permanently."

"So it's...your magic is a finite thing?"

Yusuke turned his head, gazing at the little bird. Gently, he held out his hand, palm up, and as if summoned, the bird fluttered over, its small claws digging just slightly into his skin as it landed. He closed his eyes, focusing on the points of contact, and let the essence of what he had created dissolve back into himself. When he opened his eyes, the living, breathing bird had vanished, but its likeness had returned to the canvas. His palm was still warm, but he could feel that dissipating as the magic seeped back through him. "That seems the most likely explanation. With something like this, I can call it back to me at will, or it returns of its own accord after a few hours. However, that potion -- I don't know precisely what, but it takes  _ something _ from me permanently. Last time, I slept for nearly a full day before I had regained any semblance of strength."

"And Madarame kept making you do that?" Akira looked equally horrified and disgusted. "Did he  _ know _ what it does to you?"

"I do not believe he understood the full extent, as I attempted to hide its effects. But it was only four times a year. It seemed a reasonable sacrifice for the shelter and tutelage he provided me."

The flatness of his own tone surprised him, and he closed his eyes again, suddenly feeling drained. How much of what he had thought was normal had been his sensei taking advantage of Yusuke's skills and abilities?

Arms closed around him and he started, opening his eyes to see messy, dark hair in his peripheral vision as Akira hugged him. Momentarily frozen, he tried to make sense of what was happening as his thoughts tumbled through his mind like rushing water over rocks, breaking through a dam he hadn't known he had built. Hesitantly, he raised his own arms from where they hung loosely at his sides to return Akira's gesture, drawing a shuddering breath as tears spilled unbidden down his face.

As his fingers weakly clutched at Akira's shirt, he felt Akira rubbing comforting circles on his back, and even as he cried, some detached part of his mind idly noted that this was the first time anyone had held him like this instead of treating his emotions like something that needed to be harvested or redirected into something more productive. The realization was surprisingly overwhelming.

When he could finally breathe again without gasping into another wave of tears, he rested his head on Akira's shoulder, too exhausted to be embarrassed about his uncharacteristic show of emotions. "You doing okay?" Akira murmured, making no effort to move away.

Yusuke's small laugh wavered in his throat. "Forgive me...I find realizations about my time in Sensei's tower are proving to be more traumatizing than I would have previously thought."

"There's nothing to apologize for. It's a lot to process." Akira's embrace tightened. "Do you think you can head down to the common area for dinner with me? I think food would be a good idea for you right now."

"I may have neglected to eat today," Yusuke admitted.

"I thought so. Come on, let's go."


	14. May 3 (Akira)

"Uuuuuugh."

Tatsuya gave a small, indulgent smile at Akira throwing himself on the bench after the last -- and most demanding -- customer of the day left, half an hour after the shop was supposed to close. "Welcome to running a shop. You did well handling the customers. Gave me the opportunity to actually get some work done for once."

"I thought that man was going to run me through with a poker."

"Well, he didn't. Which is good, because you would have had to clean it up."

"That's heartless."

Tatsuya leaned the broom against Akira's side. "Seeing as all your blood is still in your body, get to sweeping. I'm not coming in tomorrow to clean up before the festival."

"Festival?"

"Do you not have ears, boy? The festival of lights is tomorrow night. That's why all the shops are closed on Monday. Or were you planning on working for free on Monday?"

"Absolutely not." Akira grabbed the broom and started sweeping. "So, uh, if someone had never heard of this festival of lights before, what would you tell them about it? Asking for a friend."

"Sure you are. May fourth was Princess Miyu's birthday. The king declared it a holiday and so every year, we release paper lanterns into the sky in the hopes that they will guide her home." Tatsuya started counting coins. "And if your _friend_ is curious, the best place to watch is out on one of the rocks at the shore. Tide'll be going out, so you can get pretty far out and watch the lanterns drift. It's usually quieter out there, too; most of the families with young kids stay closer to the city."

"Good to know."

Akira continued sweeping, methodically working through the small shop as his thoughts drifted. "Seems weird that they send guards around to look for her  _ before _ they send up the lanterns to light her way home."

"Eh? Mm, I suppose." Tatsuya shrugged. "They're both exercises in sentimental bullshit anyway. The king is good at ruling the country, but when it comes to his daughter, he lost all reason when she disappeared. If I were her, even if I did come back I'd probably turn right around and run screaming for the hills."

"That's unfortunate."

"A bit, yeah. Here are your wages. Carry this bucket back out to the shed and you're free to go."

"Thanks."

Akira put the bucket away as instructed and headed back to the hostel. Yusuke was sitting on his futon, legs bent in front of him to hold his sketchbook and back against the wall. He looked up as Akira entered. "Tatsuya kept you late, I see."

Akira dropped his pack on the floor. "No, a customer from hell kept me late. If you had told me a year ago that I'd use my ability to charm rich people to soothe their anger after they blamed me for a mistake they made while I was running a shop, I'd have laughed myself to death."

"Was everything settled to their satisfaction, then?"

"More or less. I at least didn't get stabbed with a poker, so I count that as a win."

"You say concerning things sometimes, Akira."

"I try to keep you on your toes."

Yusuke returned his attention to the sketchbook. Akira bit his lip, the sight of the book reminding him of what he had promised Yusuke when he had been trying to convince him to leave Madarame's tower.

"Yusuke?"

"Mm?"

"Do you...are you still...happy? Here?"

Yusuke frowned, looking back up. "What is prompting this? Of course I am."

"It's -- it's been a month." Akira fiddled with a piece of his hair. "I did promise to take you back if you wanted to go back."

"Do you wish to be rid of me?" A shadow flickered across Yusuke's face as he didn't quite meet Akira's gaze.

"Absolutely not," Akira said firmly. "I'd miss you too much."

"Then I have no desire to return, either." Yusuke's smile was soft.  


Akira let out a quiet sigh of relief. "Okay, good." He lowered his hand before he made even more of a mess of his hair than it already was. "Anyway...did you know there's a festival of lights tomorrow night?"

Yusuke's gaze went back to his drawing as he added something to it. "I did. Haruhito and I have been working on commissions for it. Crafting decorative bunting and such is a welcome break from learning to piece together twelve different styles of dresses."

"Would you like to go?"

Yusuke's eyebrows raised, though his gaze did not. "Of course. Why would I pass up the chance to see such a spectacle? Or to spend more time with you?"

Akira felt his cheeks heat up. "Be careful with the things you say, you might give me the wrong idea."

"What would I give you the wrong idea about? I enjoy being around you."

Akira silently groaned in frustration. Was Yusuke being coy on purpose, or was he really that oblivious to how flirty his words sounded? "Never mind. Tatsuya gave me a tip on the best place to watch, so we'll want to head down to the beach a little early so we can scope it out."

"That sounds like a good plan. They will release the lanterns just after dark, so there should be plenty of time to partake in any other festival activities we would like to before then. I look forward to it."

"Me too."


	15. May 4 (Yusuke)

While Akira stepped out to take a bath, Yusuke carefully pulled out the two garments he had carefully folded up and slipped into his pack the day before. Haruhito had given him leave to make a yukata for himself and for Akira as extra practice, so long as he kept up with the rest of his commission work. Though he had still had to work extra hours at the shop to make up for it, he suspected that Haruhito had given him a smaller share of the work to give him extra time to sew his own projects.

He checked them over one last time, making sure nothing seemed out of place, before placing the darker of the two on Akira's futon. It was made from a simple black and gray striped fabric, fastened with a dark red obi. Yusuke had chosen the fabric to match Akira's hair and eyes, and the obi brought to mind his bright spirit.

Yusuke's own yukata was a light gray, with the shadows of flowers drifting subtly in the patterned fabric. He had chosen a navy blue obi as a bit of an afterthought, but he found he quite liked the tranquil feeling as he ran his fingers along it. Carefully, he slipped on the yukata and tied the obi before turning to the small mirror and running a comb through his damp hair, parting it just so.

He blinked as some of his hair tumbled in front of his left eye. Perhaps he would ask Akira to help him cut a bit of the excess length off soon. The last time he had tried to cut his own hair had resulted in a rather asymmetrical disaster, and while he didn't mind how it looked after the jagged edges had grown out and softened, it was probably best if he had assistance this time.

The door opened and Akira started talking almost immediately, before even confirming Yusuke was listening. "I know it's getting warmer outside, but that was the coldest bath I've ever taken. I swear that water came straight from snow melting off the top of Mount Fuji." He stopped, eyes going from Yusuke to the yukata folded up on his own futon. "Wait. Yusuke, did you make yukatas for  _ both _ of us?"

Yusuke fiddled with the comb that was still in his hand, suddenly feeling embarrassed. "I needed the practice."

Akira picked up the black yukata, holding it up and letting it unfold. "You're amazing. This is -- probably the nicest thing I've ever worn."

"Stop it," Yusuke protested, but he was smiling in spite of himself. Akira looked so genuinely and openly grateful, stirring a warm, fluttery feeling in Yusuke's chest.

Akira got dressed quickly, attempting to tame his hair with his fingers for a bit before blowing out a despondent sigh.

"Here."

Without really thinking, Yusuke stepped behind Akira, gently working out the most noticeable tangles and fluffing his hair into something that looked at least reasonably intentional. He was a few centimeters taller than Akira, so it was relatively easy to see what he was doing and the other's reflection in the mirror, so he could make sure it looked good. He noticed Akira's face was quite red, and his hands stilled for a moment as he realized how close they were standing. The flutters intensified as Yusuke stepped away, self-consciously smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles in his yukata.  "That's better."

Akira let out a chuckle, as if trying to break the tension. "You can be seen in public with me now?"

"I didn't do that for my benefit. You looked dissatisfied with the state of your hair, so I wished to help."

"I -- appreciate it." Akira looked like he wanted to say something else, but turned towards the door instead. "Ready?"

The festive atmosphere enveloped them almost the moment they stepped out onto the street. Colorful streamers stretched across the alleyways, and children ran past holding lit sparklers even though it was still light out. Down one street, a row of carnival games were set up.

"Oh, a ring toss!" Akira nudged him and nodded towards one of the games. "Want to play?"

"I feel like you will be far better at it."

"Never know unless you try."

Yusuke sighed, but allowed Akira to drag him over to the stall, where he passed over a copper and received three rings in return, one of which he promptly handed to Yusuke. "Come on. All you have to do is get one of these over that pole." He pointed at an unassuming metal rod in the ground.

Yusuke examined the ring in his hand. It was made of some kind of stiff rope, which was rather weightier than he had expected. Trying to judge the distance, he tossed it clumsily. The ring hit the side of the pole and dropped to the ground.

"Not bad. Just get it at a little different angle."

Yusuke's second toss was high, landing beyond the pole.

"Like this."

Akira's arms wrapped around him from behind, hands closing over his as he adjusted the angle and height that Yusuke was throwing from.

"Try that." Akira stepped back, letting Yusuke toss the last ring. It was right on target, catching the pole and falling down onto the ground around it.

"Nice job!" The man running the stall clapped. "Here, pick a prize."

The prizes were small crocheted animals, gazing up at him with cute button eyes. He picked up a long red one with claws and a tail.

"The lobster, huh?" Akira grinned. "I like it."

Yusuke tucked the small lobster securely inside his yukata as they walked on towards the food stalls. By the time they had finished eating, the sun had just disappeared over the horizon, so they started heading down to the beach, finding a rock a little distance away that they could sit on and dangle their feet over. "So was this festival in any of the books you read?" Akira asked, stretching his arms in front of him.

Yusuke shook his head. "I learned very little of anything that happened during my lifetime in the tower."

Akira grimaced sympathetically.

They sat there in comfortable silence as darkness slowly fell around them, listening to the waves washing in and out. A small breeze ruffled Yusuke's hair and he shivered in the damp ocean air, scooting a little closer to Akira. There was a quick inhale and Akira looked up.

"It's starting."

A single lantern floated out in the sky over the ocean, its little globe of light reflecting on the water below. It drifted left of the city, closer to them, and Yusuke placed his hands on the rock on either side of him to brace himself as he followed the lantern overhead.

Akira's fingers shifted slightly on the rock and Yusuke realized he had accidentally put his hand on top of Akira's. "There are more lanterns being released," Akira said, pointing with his other hand, making no attempt to move away from Yusuke.

A whole cloud of lanterns was rising from the city, drifting up and bumping into each other as they traveled through the air. Yusuke tried to focus on them, but the warmth of Akira's hand against his was pulling his attention away. Staring down at the lanterns' reflection on the ocean, Yusuke curled his finger around one of Akira's, heart hammering madly in his chest. Suddenly, his desire to make something for Akira, the happiness he felt when Akira complimented anything he did, the fluttery feelings he had had around Akira...they all started to make sense.

The lanterns drifted higher up in the sky as Yusuke tightened his grip ever so slightly on Akira's hand, almost jumping in surprise when Akira turned his hand palm up to grasp his more securely. Neither one of them were watching the lanterns anymore.

What was it like in the books?

Every nerve in his body was hyper-aware of what was happening -- the rough stone underneath him, the warmth of Akira's hand in his, the way Akira was frozen looking at him -- and Yusuke leaned forward, eyes shutting on instinct as his lips pressed against Akira's.

Exhilaration and a touch of panic coursed through him as he pulled away, opening his eyes to see Akira swallow nervously. "And here I thought you had no idea I was flirting with you."

"What?" was Yusuke's highly-intelligent response.

"Oh, my God." And then Akira was kissing him, unrestrained, as if trying to show what he had been trying to communicate to Yusuke all along, free hand tangling in the hair at the back of Yusuke's neck as he drew him closer.

When they separated again, the lanterns overhead cast a flickering, almost ethereal light on Akira's face. Yusuke traced his fingertips down Akira's jaw, still feeling his own quickened heartbeat. "I...would like to do that again."

Akira's lashes rested on his cheeks, and Yusuke took that as an invitation, closing the distance between them once more.

An eternity lasting only a moment passed before Akira turned his head slightly, resting his cheek against Yusuke's as they both regained their breath. The lanterns were still bright overhead, but the distant noise from the rest of the crowd had faded away to nothing. "It's getting late," Akira murmured. "I guess we should head back." Slowly, he got his feet under him and stood up, offering a hand to Yusuke.

Reluctantly, Yusuke took it, allowing Akira to pull him to his feet, still feeling slightly dazed. None of the old stories he had read had quite prepared him for -- well, for any of that.

Even once they got back to the hostel and he was lying in the dark, it was quite some time before he had calmed down enough to sleep.


	16. May 15 (Akira)

"I didn't know you had taken on an apprentice."

The words floated out to Akira as he worked on piecing together the door knockers he had been working on. An acquaintance of Tatsuya's must have come into the shop.

"I'm in the guild. It's kind of an expectation."

"How'd you find this one?"

"He came in looking for work. Guess all his family in his hometown is dead or something. He seemed trainable, so I agreed to take him on. Better for the kid than foisting him off on, say, the city guard. No reason why that popped into my head. Captain."

"Aww, you lost your manners and found a heart."

A laugh. "You're funny as ever."

"S'pose so. Just be careful. There've been some rumors floating around since the festival. Seems like the lanterns from all the nearby towns all went in the direction of Nagoya."

"That doesn't make any sense with how wind works."

"I know. People are saying there's magic involved."

"Sure, sure. That magic law was the weirdest thing. I've never heard of anyone using magic before or since, and I don't know of anyone who's ever been arrested or even  _ accused _ under that law. I don't get why people would be all up in arms about a magic-user now."

"Beats me, but you know how rumors are."

There was a silence. Akira picked up another door knocker.

"Is that why you're here, Jun? To warn me?"

"Just -- keep your eyes open. It feels like something is going to happen soon. The last thing I want is for you to get dragged into it."

Footsteps sounded, and Akira made sure he was thoroughly engrossed in his work as the visitor emerged from the shop and headed down the street.

_ People are saying there's magic involved. _

It really was just his luck, he mused darkly, that sixteen years into a completely magic-free life, he had found maybe the one person in the whole kingdom who could make things come to life with his mind. And the more he thought about it, the less this whole situation made sense to him.

Tatsuya was scowling when he walked out of the shop a few minutes later. "You're still here."

"It's only four o'clock," Akira pointed out. Then, figuring there was no reason to pretend he hadn't heard the conversation, "Who was that? Sounded like you knew him."

"Old friend," Tatsuya said tersely. "He just wanted to warn me about some rumors going around."

"About magic users?"

"You apparently heard what he said as well as I did. What's your actual question, kid?"

"When did that law go into effect?"

"After the princess' disappearance. Just another wild goose chase to flush out a potential kidnapper, I guess."

"But it was left in place this whole time?"

"Not like it affected anybody. Most people just laughed it off. Not like anybody had ever been seen using magic before. I think a couple troublemakers tried to get some people arrested on charges of witchcraft when the law was first passed and they got laughed out of the guardhouse."

"Huh."

Tatsuya eyed him suspiciously. "Stay out of trouble, all right? Whatever's going on with these rumors, just keep your head down. You seem like a good kid. I'd hate to lose an apprentice because of something stupid like this."

"Yeah, of course." Akira carefully kept his face neutral.

Tatsuya held his gaze for another few seconds, as if trying to read something in Akira's face, before shaking his head. "Wrap up and head home. I'm closing up early today."

Akira took a meandering route home, listening to as many bits of conversation between passers-by as he could to see if he could pick up any more of the rumors that the guard had been talking about. Nothing in the area with the higher-end shops. Nothing near the food stalls with the bored-looking vendors.

" -- ridiculous, how could they possibly prove anything based just on  _ that?" _

"That's what I said! But they still took him in for questioning."

Akira quickly located the pair of women who were talking, discretely positioning himself so he could listen without attracting suspicion.

"Weird that they would start taking that law seriously after all these years."

"Is it true about the festival lights? Ours definitely just went south and over the sea."

"But the wind was blowing inland, wasn't it? And they kind of just hovered for a long time."

"They were pretty high up, though. Maybe the wind blows differently up there?"

"Maybe. So what's going to happen to Minato?"

"Don't know. I know they've got him locked up in a solitary cell, but that's about it. When I see Maya next, I'll ask her if she's heard anything else."

Akira slipped away, taking alleys to shortcut back to the hostel. With his detours, even though he'd left the forge earlier than usual, Yusuke was already back, holding some scraps of fabric up to the light coming through the window and frowning. "Good evening," he greeted Akira absentmindedly. "How was work?"

Akira grunted in reply.

Yusuke set down the fabrics, focusing his full attention on Akira. "That sounds like less than a glowing review of the day. What happened?"

"One of the city guards came by to talk to Tatsuya. They're old friends or something. Anyway, apparently they've started apprehending people on suspicion of magic. Which they haven't done for basically the entire time magic has been outlawed."

The color drained from Yusuke's face. "That's a recent law?"

"Came into effect right after the princess was kidnapped, so not terribly recent."

When he told Yusuke the rumors about the festival lanterns all converging on Nagoya, Yusuke looked somehow frustrated, confused, and scared all at once. "Why here?"

"Good question. I mean, we don't even know if that's true for sure."

"But if it is..."

Akira sighed, flopping down on his futon. "I don't know, Yusuke."

Yusuke looked forlorn. "I wonder," he murmured, almost to himself. "I haven't done any since the day you caught me."

"That's probably good. Best not to chance it."

"I feel it coursing all through me," Yusuke said restlessly. "It wants an outlet. I have created so little with it since leaving the tower." He turned his hand over, looking at his fingertips. "I can barely focus on anything else."

"Do you think it's just a mental thing, or is there something bad that could happen if you keep not using it?"

Yusuke shook his head. "I have no way of knowing." He closed his hand into a fist before sighing and letting it drop back down to his side.

Akira's sleep that night was restless, punctuated by lanterns following them around, guards dragging Yusuke away as he screamed, and creatures born from artwork crumbling into ashes around him. He woke in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, looking over to Yusuke's futon. Only when he could see the rise and fall of Yusuke's chest as he breathed could Akira fall back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! Santa brought some foreboding.


	17. May 16 (Yusuke)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for this chapter: not quite a panic attack, but similar feelings described.

The painting was back. When Yusuke entered the back room of the shop, Haruhito was studying it carefully. "You're late," he said sharply.

"My apologies." Yusuke held out the fabrics he had been working with the previous night, trying not to look at the painting. His fingertips throbbed, as if his magic was stinging him like a swarm of bees, and as soon as he had dropped his hands back to his sides, he dug his nails into his palms to try to stop the feeling. "I wanted to compare how these looked in the morning light and in the evening light."

"And your conclusions?"

"The combination feels -- off to me, somehow."  


"That's a surprisingly inelegant statement from you."

Yusuke bit his lip. "I don't know what specifically bothers me about it."

Haruhito stared at him, his face inscrutable. Yusuke swallowed, an all-too-familiar wave of shame washing over him. He had come short, once again, a failure that --

"That's fair enough."

Yusuke froze as Haruhito turned back to the painting, shrugging. "It -- is?"

"They call it 'art' for a reason. You can't always explain it with words and reason. If it feels off to you, then it feels off. Trust your instincts, Yusuke."

Yusuke blinked away the prickling feeling in the corners of his eyes. "What are you looking for in this painting again?" he asked, landing on the first question he could think of to change the subject and immediately cursing his mind for coming up with _that._  


Haruhito handed him a piece of embroidery. Yusuke recognized it immediately as the sample he had made the first day he had come into the shop. "The more I looked at this, the more I realized that you had picked out the core motifs far better than I would have expected. This -- " he pointed at a pattern of flowers on Yusuke's embroidery -- "is an arrangement of shapes that repeats over and over in here, that I failed to see until this."

"I have a good eye." The stinging sensation was creeping through his arms as he lied, trying to push down his panic.

"You've seen this painting before."

It wasn't a question.

"Which is surprising, considering it was a special, private commission. No one but the artist himself should have seen it." He indicated the signature in the corner. "But I traveled to Shiojiri to pick this up from the artist...who was not you. And yet..."

The walls of the shop seemed to be closing in on Yusuke. The stinging sensation pricked his chest. His eyes blurred for a moment, his breathing shallow.  


"You introduced yourself to me as an artist, and you are clearly one of significant talent based on the drawing you showed me that day. A songbird, if I recall correctly. I see this same songbird here."

Yusuke didn't even need to see where he pointed on the painting. He knew exactly where the bird was, perched at the end of the bridge railing.

"This signature is a lie, is it not?"

"Yes," Yusuke whispered, and the sudden cold he felt only served to accentuate the maddened pulsing of his magic, a humming current from his fingertips to his heart and back, over and over, as his vision went fuzzy again.

"You are the artist of this painting, are you not, Yusuke?"

_ Chirp. Chirp. _

Everything seemed to happen at once -- Haruhito's question, an overwhelming feeling of panic streaming through Yusuke and out through his fingertips, and suddenly the contents of the painting were spilling over their canvas constraints, bird flying away, water dripping from the river, trees stretching up towards the ceiling --

Yusuke whirled around, sprinting out of the shop as fast as he could.

The hostel was mercifully deserted as he ran in, taking the stairs three at a time and wrenching open the door to his and Akira's room. He stuffed the few belongings he had into his pack, throwing it on his back and heading out of the building through a different door. Haruhito didn't know where he was staying, and it would surely take him some time to find a guard and explain the situation, so with any luck Yusuke could get out of the town unnoticed.

Remembering some of the things Akira had told him about his days as a thief, he chose the busiest street, doing his best to hide in the crowd as he worked his way towards one of the gates, fortunately making it through in a group of chattering farmers. Once he had gotten into the forest outside of town and away from anyone else, he broke into a run again, just trying to put as much distance between him and the town as possible.

When he could run no more, he slowed to a walk, gasping for breath. He had no idea where he was, or how far he had come, but he seemed to be well away from any roads. The trees seemed to swim in the air in front of him.

"What -- "  


Something dragged a sharp point across his arm and he realized he had somehow walked into a thorny bush in his haze. He stumbled, tripping over his own feet in the attempt to free himself, barely hearing the sound of cloth ripping as he finally pulled his arm away from the bush. Surely running should not have so thoroughly exhausted him that he could no longer see straight?

He forced himself to keep walking, trying to ignore how the air felt thick and heavy, darkness falling around him --

"Why -- can't I -- "  


_ I'm too far from my magic. _

Something sharp struck his forehead as the thought floated through his head. Decaying leaves pressed against his palms.

Everything was dark.


	18. May 16 (Akira)

Akira put on his gloves and picked up the tongs, retrieving the thick piece of metal from the forge and placing it on the anvil. He had just started hammering it into shape when he heard some kind of commotion from down the street.

Tatsuya, who was also out in the forge area, looked up from his work. "What in the hell?"

Screams and yells were coming from the corner of the street. Abandoning the anvil, Akira hurried to the fence, straining to see what was going on.

"Is that...water?"

Akira's eyes widened as Tatsuya's question suddenly made the scene in front of him click into place. A small bird flew past, flapping its wings frantically, and with a sinking feeling in his stomach, Akira realized -- the water was flooding down the street from the direction of the tailor shop.

Tatsuya swore. "So Jun was right." He ran a hand through his hair. "Akira, get out of here. Take your friend if you can get to him." His piercing brown eyes bore into Akira's, and he realized that Tatsuya had pieced together why Akira had been asking about magic users the day before. "There's no telling what's going to happen next, and neither one of you wants to find out."

Akira barely nodded before he was running towards the hostel. Something told him Yusuke was no longer at the shop, and there was no point trying to push his way through the chaos to try to confirm it. The door to their room was slightly ajar when he got to it.

"Fuck."

Of course Yusuke had already fled. He threw his belongings into his pack, not bothering to lock the door to the now-empty room as he left. "Where did you go?" he whispered despairingly as he made it back out to the street.

_ Chirp. Chirp. _

Akira froze.

That songbird was back. As he tried to watch it frantically darting back and forth, he realized it was the same one he had seen countless drawings of in Yusuke's sketchbook. "Okay, little bird," he said quietly. "I'm trusting you."

He followed it through a crowded street, nearly losing sight of it several times until he emerged out of the north gate of the city. He kept going into the forest, breaking into a run to try to catch up to the bird. It flitted between trees, diving off the path, and Akira desperately tried to memorize the turns and keep track of what direction he was going in as he plunged through the underbrush after it.

The bird was slowing down, flying more erratically now, and Akira reached out to catch it in his hands as it tumbled towards the ground. "I'll keep you safe," he said desperately, "just -- keep guiding me."

The bird chirped faintly, pressing one of its claws into Akira's right palm, and he turned that way. A small piece of fabric was snagged on a nearby bush, and Akira felt a small breath of relief. He was still going in the right direction.

A prick of pressure on his left palm, and Akira glanced down as he turned in that direction to see the bird dissolving into a swirl of dust and glitter that was now floating away, against the wind --

"Yusuke!"

The glitter swirled around Yusuke's unconscious form on the forest floor, suffusing him with the faintest of golden lights before fading out of existence. Akira dropped to his knees next to him, carefully turning him over and brushing the dirt and dead leaves off him. Quickly, he pulled out his waterskin and a clean shirt, wetting the cloth to wipe away the drying blood seeping out from under Yusuke's hair before turning his attention to the other cuts and scrapes on his arms and legs.

As he worked, he noticed a few more shimmering clouds of glitter making their way back to Yusuke, and he realized with a sickening feeling that if anyone in town was paying attention and put two and two together, they could easily track Yusuke down. "Wake up, Yusuke," he begged desperately.

An especially large cluster of magic floated down at that moment, its warmth briefly passing through Akira before sinking into Yusuke's chest. Yusuke coughed weakly, eyelids fluttering open.

In any other situation, Akira would have waited longer for him to recover, but time wasn't a luxury they had. "Come on," he urged, pulling Yusuke into a sitting position and then dragging him to his feet, supporting him as they started walking.

"What...happened...?"

"Feels like I should be asking you that, but talk later. Right now I just want to get us as far out of sight as possible."

They kept going, Akira relying entirely on his instincts as they plunged deeper into the forest. He could tell Yusuke was running on nothing more than adrenaline born of fear, and he himself was flagging.

"We'll stop here."

A hollow, mostly obscured by densely-packed bamboo, opened up as Akira guided Yusuke through the least-cluttered opening he could find, and they sank to the ground in the gathering darkness of twilight.

Akira leaned back against a tree, pulling Yusuke into his arms. As Yusuke buried his face in Akira's shoulder, he gently stroked the artist's dark blue hair.

"What happened, Yusuke?"

Yusuke was silent for so long that Akira almost checked to see if he had fallen asleep, before a sniff proved otherwise. "Haruhito had that painting out again." His voice was muffled into the fabric of Akira's jacket. "He started asking questions about it. When he asked me if I was the artist...I panicked. I couldn't control my magic. And I ran."

"Is that where all the water came from?"

Yusuke pulled away, staring at Akira with eyes wide in terror. "What...?"

Akira bit his lip. It was too late to not tell him now. "That's how I knew to come after you. Water was flooding the street from that direction."

Yusuke pressed his hands to his face, gripping his hair in despair. "No," he whispered. He stumbled to his feet and started backing away.

"Yusuke -- "  


"Just stay away from me!"

Akira barely had time to register the frustration he felt before Yusuke had taken off like a scared rabbit. Too tired to follow, but knowing Yusuke was also exhausted, he grabbed a decent-sized branch off the ground and threw it like a javelin towards his legs, succeeding in knocking one of them out from under him and sending Yusuke to the ground, giving Akira time to catch up. "I won't do that, Yusuke."

"But -- this magic -- if I cannot control it, I am dangerous."

Akira gripped Yusuke's wrist with one hand and cupped his cheek with the other. "You were cornered, emotional, and already in a state where your magic needed an outlet, all right? Stop blaming yourself so hard. Now that we know what happens when you don't use it, we can make sure you don't get in that situation again."

"Akira -- "  


Akira pressed his lips firmly against Yusuke's, silencing him with his tongue until he could feel a bit of the tension leaving his body. He let go of Yusuke's wrist, gently brushing his hair out of his face as he pulled away. "I'm not abandoning you in the forest and that's final, all right?"

Yusuke's eyelids fell closed and he nodded slightly.

"Okay. Let's go back to that little hollow and try to get some sleep. I'll take first watch and wake you up in a few hours."

The light from the still nearly-full moon filtered through the leaves overhead as Akira settled in to keep watch, casting a mottled light over their little campsite. Yusuke had fallen asleep quickly, but if his frequent movements and pinched expression were anything to go by, it was not a particularly restful sleep.

Akira let out a long, quiet sigh. Much as he didn't want to admit it to himself, he had started to feel like Nagoya was  _ home. _ With an actual job, and someone to come home to...

_ I should've listened more when he told me about how he was feeling without using his magic. _

There was a rustling nearby, and Akira stiffened.  _ Should've grabbed that branch again after I threw it at Yusuke.... _

He relaxed when he saw an outline of a fox darting between the trees.

_ This is going to be a long night. _


	19. May 17 (Yusuke)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for this chapter: self-harm.

_ "Yusuke." _

_ Madarame shook his head, disapproval radiating from every pore. "Yusuke. This is simply inadequate. When I give you these challenges, I expect you to put your all into them." _

_ "But -- Sensei -- "  
_

_ "Silence." Madarame waited until Yusuke had snapped his mouth shut. "You may neither paint nor draw for one month. Hone the images of your mind's eye until then." _

_ "A -- a month?" _

_ Madarame's gaze was hard as stone and cold as ice. "I am sure I did not stutter. One month, Yusuke." _

_ Madarame dissolved and days turned into nights, each passing change worsening the feeling of something crawling through his veins, something that needed to come out -- _

_ The tower room barely felt real to him as he stumbled out of bed, barely able to see for the confused, maddened pulsing of his own magic turning against him, searing through his mind, flashing across his vision, stabbing his fingertips. He could barely take two steps before he crumpled to the floor, gasping and choking as a tendril snaked through his neck, and with a strangled cry he dragged his fingertips violently across the rough stone floor, feeling his nails breaking, the blood oozing from his mangled hand and painting an anguished pattern on the floor -- _

Painting.

_ His right hand moved of its own accord, for now there was an outlet, macabre though it was. The thing as it lifted itself off the floor into its magically-granted form glowed with a foreboding crimson. Four painfully sharp points clawed their way up his arm before plunging themselves as far as they could repeatedly into the back of his neck, and even the sharp stabbing pain could not elicit more than choking gasps from his throat as he struggled weakly, tears dripping onto the floor to mix with the blood -- _

"Yusuke, wake up."

Yusuke's eyes flew open, trying to take in his unfamiliar surroundings all at once as he tried to get away from whoever was there, feet catching in scratchy cloth as he flailed --

"Yusuke, it's me, Akira. It's okay."

This time, the hands that touched him were comforting and warm against his skin and he tried to focus on them, letting the panic swirl away. The bamboo they had camped among slowly came into focus. "That painting," he whispered. "I had forgotten what happened."

"What do you mean?"

"I was punished...forbidden from creating for a month..." He stared despairingly up at Akira. "I could have prevented this if I had merely  _ remembered _ that it had happened before."

"Please stop blaming yourself," Akira implored, a note of desperation in his voice as he tried to comfort Yusuke.

"At least the first time I only hurt myself -- there was no damage to anyone else. This time is so much worse -- "  


He couldn't stop the spiral of guilt, of self-hatred. What good was it to have magic, if all he could do with it was perform simple parlor tricks or cause destruction in his wake? "I should have just turned myself into the city guard."

"What, so they could lock you up and you could lose control again? Think about it for a minute, Yusuke. If all you need to do is create something with your magic -- look around. There's no one but me for kilometers. Let it happen."

"Akira -- "  


"Yusuke." Akira cut him off, brushing his hair back from his face, hand staying there so Yusuke couldn't look away. "That songbird you made with the flood -- it came to find me, it led me straight to you when nothing else could have. If it weren't for your magic I would never have found you again, and I'm not going to let you go so easily after that. We  _ will _ figure something out."

"Why do you care so much?"

"Because I love you. You were  _ nothing _ like I expected when I heard those rumors in Shiojiri, and I couldn't have asked for anything better. I pulled you from that tower and you gave me a  _ home _ to come to. I don't care if we have to hide in the forest forever as long as I'm with you."

"You've only known me a month and a half," Yusuke protested weakly.

"I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you."

This feeling was also overwhelming, but warmth spread through him this time instead of fear and anguish. He had read descriptions of people -- admittedly, usually heroines of romance novels -- feeling as if they were drowning in their love's eyes, but he had never truly understood what that could feel like until that moment. He felt utterly unworthy of it.

Akira pulled him close, and once again, he had to consciously let himself relax into his touch. Akira's lips pressed gently to the side of his forehead. "Can you tell me about that nightmare?"

Keeping his gaze carefully trained on one of Akira's hands, Yusuke told him about how his magic had turned on him, and when he reached the part about the... _ thing _ ...he had created stabbing him, Akira gently touched the back of his neck, rubbing his fingers comfortingly over the old, nearly-invisible scars.

When he finished, Akira was silent, absently playing with Yusuke's hair. It was oddly comforting, and if Yusuke closed his eyes, he could almost forget the dread that was looming over him. Almost.

"Akira?"

"Mm?"

"What do we do now?"

Akira took a deep breath. "For now...we trust in our ability to outrun the news. We need to get somewhere that we can buy food. If I'm at all correct about what direction we went through the forest, we should come to a river soon, and we can follow it to a village."

"And then...?"

Akira's fingertips gently caressed Yusuke's scalp. "One step at a time, Yusuke."  


Yusuke shivered as Akira stood up.

"We should get going since we're already awake. Can you do that?"

Yusuke nodded, slowly crawling out of his bedroll and packing his things away. Once he was done, he rose to his feet, trying not to let despair overtake him. "Let us go."


	20. May 17 (Akira)

Despite his words to Yusuke, Akira was already running through several scenarios in his head. Yusuke clearly needed some time to process what was happening, but they couldn't keep running with no plan forever.

_ Even if Haruhito didn't want to turn him in, when the water flooded the street, I don't know what other option he would’ve had -- either say Yusuke did it or take the fall for it himself, and I don't know that he was quite that kind of person. If he told the guards the truth, how fast would that news have traveled? _

As he had predicted, they soon came to a river. While the current was slow, the water looked deep enough that Akira didn't want to risk trying to cross it. They would have to follow it and hope to find a better place to cross. "That's probably going to put us at the road," he muttered.

"You mean before we can find a place to cross?"

"Yeah."

"We won't have to be on the road long, though. As long as we're careful, it should be fine."

"I suppose." A thought struck him. "Yusuke, when you use your magic to create something from your art, is it the size of what you drew, or the size that it would be in reality?"

"The closer the drawing or painting is to reality, the easier it is to manifest, but I have certainly brought forth things larger than I painted them. The incident in Nagoya proved that."

Yusuke's voice was flat, his eyes shadowed, and Akira mentally kicked himself.

"Right. Sorry." He sighed; since he'd already stuck his foot in his mouth by bringing it up, he might as well make his suggestion. "What I was thinking was...what if you draw a boat? Could we use it to cross the river here?"

Yusuke raised his eyebrows, but his look of incredulity was ruined somewhat by his hair coming untucked from behind his ear and falling forward over his left eye. "You would entrust your safety to a figment of my imagination?"

"Just because the things you create are magical don't make them any less real."

The shadows in Yusuke's eyes darkened before being replaced by a deadened, closed-off expression. Without another word, he shrugged off his pack to retrieve his sketchbook.

Akira stood watch as Yusuke drew, ears pricked for any sounds that might indicate they had been found. It seemed unlikely that someone would run into them far away from the roads, but they were still close enough to Nagoya that a well-organized and thorough search would do the trick.

Yusuke seemed to be struggling more than usual to draw, tense and stiff as he worked. He kept glancing up from his paper as if afraid someone was going to leap out and attack him where he knelt.

After several minutes, he walked over to the water's edge, kneeling down close to the river and holding his sketchbook up to face it with his left hand. Akira watched curiously as a soft, golden light seemed to brighten around Yusuke's right hand, outstretched towards his drawing, and as he moved his hand away a small rowboat glided smoothly onto the water's surface, complete with oars. Yusuke took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.  


"It worked!" Akira hurried over to grab the boat before it could drift downstream.

"I am unsure how long I can hold it for," Yusuke warned, retrieving his pack and stowing his supplies away. "We should hurry."

Neither of them had ever rowed a boat before, and the boat itself seemed determined to go its own direction. With significant effort, and a few muttered swears from Akira, they finally made it across. Once they had disembarked on the other side, Yusuke held his hand back out towards the boat, and it glowed briefly before dissolving into the same glitter Akira had seen the songbird disappear into the previous day, drifting through the air before settling on Yusuke's skin and disappearing. "What does that feel like?" Akira asked curiously.

"Warm," Yusuke answered immediately. "As if a part of my heart is returning to me."

"And when you create -- manifest -- whatever you call it?"

"For something temporary like this?" Yusuke considered for a moment, and Akira was relieved to see the pinched and exhausted look on his face softening. "As if I'm lending out a treasured possession to a trusted friend. It stings to let it go, but I know it will be taken care of and returned to me. I retain a sort of connection with it, as well."

"Is that why that bird came to find me?"

He kicked himself again as the question left his lips, but fortunately Yusuke seemed to be considering it thoughtfully instead of retreating into anxiety again. "I don't recall specifically attempting to tell it to do so, but it must have been influenced by my own desires."

Akira grinned slyly. "You desire me, eh?"

Yusuke blushed. "You are purposely misconstruing my words." The flush crept up to the tips of his ears. "Though I would not completely disavow the sentiment," he admitted, ducking his head shyly.

Were blushes contagious? Even though Akira had just been teasing Yusuke, he could feel his own face getting warm at Yusuke's words. "I'll remember that," he promised, trying and mostly failing to keep up his flirty demeanor.

As Akira had predicted, it wasn't long after they crossed the river that he could see a small village peeking through the trees. "Nice," he said, snapping his fingers. "Let's get some supplies quick and then head out."

Yusuke looked worried. "Should I stay behind? If they're looking for me, I would prefer not to draw attention to you."

"I'm not exactly less distinctive than you," Akira said, pointing to his untameable hair, "and I'd bet that multiple people the guards are likely to talk to have seen us together. At least if we stick together here, then both of us will know if something's going sideways. If we split up, I'd have no way of telling you if something happens to me."

"You make a fair point." Yusuke adjusted his pack. "Let us go, then."

Fortunately, no one seemed to look twice at them as they bought food, and they were able to get in and out without much trouble. On their way out of town, however, Akira caught sight of a poster tacked up by the gate, and his stomach lurched a little to see the somewhat-accurate drawings of his and Yusuke's faces. Apparently news  _ had _ spread, but this particular village hadn't started caring enough to make the connection between them and the wanted poster. He waited until the road had curved away so they could no longer see the town behind them before striking back out into the forest, trusting in instinct and luck to lead them forward.


	21. May 20 (Yusuke)

Yusuke stretched his legs out in front of him as he sat on the hard rock jutting out over their campsite below, gnawing dispiritedly on a piece of hardtack from the rations they had purchased. If he didn't know that any food he tried to draw and manifest would turn to dust when his connection to them ran out and would provide no actual nutritional value, he gladly would have drawn almost anything else to eat. They had only been on the run for four days, and already the constant exertion, fear, and lack of satisfying food were taking their toll.

"It smells like rain," Akira said, from where he was attempting to clear out an area for them to lay out their bedrolls in shelter of the overhang.

Yusuke breathed in, trying to pick up the scent Akira was talking about. "All I smell are trees and dirt."

"Mm, I guess rain might smell different up in that tower, even if you had the windows open. Yeah, I can smell those things too, but I also smell rain."

Once Yusuke had finished his unsatisfying meal, he joined Akira in the makeshift shelter below. It was already getting dark, and walking from sunrise to dusk was quite exhausting. It wasn't long before he was asleep, wishing fervently for a pillow.

It was hard to say whether it was Akira grabbing him or the flash of lightning that woke him up. Disoriented, he sat up, flinching as thunder crashed around them disconcertingly quickly.

"I think it struck a tree."

The blinding flash of another bolt of lightning was followed almost instantaneously by a deafening boom, and Yusuke instinctively ducked and covered his head. When he looked out at their surroundings, something nudged him to look up.

"It started a fire..."

Akira sprang up, immediately starting to roll up his bedroll. "We need to get out of here. There's no telling how fast it'll spread."

Yusuke mirrored his movements, and soon they were moving away as quickly as they dared. The forest was exceedingly dark, with no moonlight to guide them, and it was difficult to pick out their footing or avoid bumping into trees.

The blaze was steadily growing behind them. Lightning flashed just in time to illuminate a small ravine in front of them, and Akira yanked him away not a moment too soon. "Just rain already!" Akira yelled angrily at the sky, receiving only more lightning in response.

It wasn't long before the light from the fire was enough to illuminate their path, and even though Yusuke was already panting, he pushed himself to go faster, running along the zigzag of a steep downhill slope --

A cry of pain ripped out of his throat as his foot caught under a tree root, twisting violently, and he tumbled sideways, unable to stop himself from rolling further down the hill, scraping past several smaller trees until his midsection slammed directly into one, abruptly stopping his movement.

With all the breath knocked out of his lungs, Yusuke struggled to inhale, hearing Akira yelling his name somewhere behind him. He squeezed his eyes shut, whimpering as someone touched his injured ankle, unlacing his boot.

"Sorry, this will hurt you more than it hurts me."

The voice was unfamiliar, but Yusuke was effectively derailed from thinking about it too much as the person removed the boot, and Yusuke cried out again as his ankle flexed to accommodate it with stabs of pain.

Dimly, he realized cloth was being wrapped around his injury, and he opened his eyes to a familiar golden glow. The stranger's face was illuminated by the light emanating from his palm, dark hair falling over one eye, and Yusuke felt the cloth cool down, effectively forming an ice pack around his sprained ankle.

Darkness returned just as Akira reached them. "Are you all right?" he asked Yusuke, still breathing hard.

"I will live." Yusuke groaned as he tried to sit up, and quickly gave up on that effort. "Thank you, stranger."

A snort. "You sound like someone out of a hundred-year-old book."

"Who are you?" Akira asked, and Yusuke could hear a protective note in his voice.

"Name's Minato."

"Minato..." Akira repeated, sounding puzzled. "Wait. You weren't imprisoned in Nagoya a few days ago, were you?"

"Sure was. Somebody saw me near the lanterns, then the lanterns all started heading to Nagoya, so somehow that equated to them arresting me. Then when the flood happened, they let me go, apologizing for the case of 'mistaken identity'." Minato sketched air quotes around the phrase.  


"So you followed us?" Akira's voice wasn't outright hostile, but there was an edge to it.

Minato sighed, frustrated. "Look. You literally just saw me do magic. I know that  _ you _ know your friend here can also do magic. Yeah, I followed you. I wanted to know who I could've been mistaken for."

"But -- how?" Yusuke asked, regretting his choice to speak as his abdomen throbbed where he had hit the tree.

Minato held out a small item for Akira and Yusuke to look at. Akira picked it up out of his palm, frowning as he examined it. "This is a compass."

"A  _ magic _ compass," Minato corrected. "Where's it pointing now?"

Akira pointed across Yusuke's body.

Minato plucked the compass back out of Akira's hand, moving to Yusuke's other side. "Where's it pointing now?"

Wearing a very confused look, Akira pointed slowly behind him.

Minato placed the compass on Yusuke's chest, and Yusuke could barely see the small magnetic arm swinging wildly. "It points to me," he realized.

"Yup. Easy to find someone with magic. Figured this was the easiest thing I could enchant."

"What about the forest fire?" Yusuke asked suddenly.

"Wind's shifted, and it's way more likely to travel uphill. Plus except for this one tree you tried to hug so aggressively, we're in a pretty open area right here."

The skies chose that moment to open, almost immediately drenching them with a downpour.  


"Plus there's that, I guess..."

Somehow, with both Akira and Minato supporting Yusuke, they made it under the cover of some nearby trees, where they were protected from the worst of the rain. Akira helped Yusuke lay out his bedroll and crawl into it. Cold, wet, and in pain, he shivered as he watched the other two in the darkness, occasionally lit by increasingly distant lightning. "We'll talk more in the morning," he heard Akira say to Minato.

"Suits me."


	22. May 21 (Akira)

The smell of smoke was still heavy in the air when Akira woke up the next morning, but like Minato had said, the fire seemed to have moved away from them.

Speaking of the enigmatic boy, he was still fast asleep nearby, still as the dead despite the loud and insistent chattering of a couple of squirrels nearby and the pained groans Yusuke was making as he tried to sit up. Akira turned his attention to the injured artist, helping him sit up and handing him a waterskin. "How are you feeling?"

"Slightly better than last night, though still rather sore. The wrapping around my ankle has done wonders for it, though."

"That's good." Akira looked back over at Minato. Something tugged at his memory. "Hey, Yusuke?"

"Yes?"

"Remember that picture the guard showed us of that missing princess?"

"Of course."

"Don't you think he looks...kind of similar?"

Yusuke followed his gaze. "I find more similarities between his face and my own, if I am telling the truth."

"You don't think...maybe you're all related?"

"Preposterous," Yusuke said flatly. "I could not possibly be related to a princess."

Akira pursed his lips. "The timing is awfully suspicious, though. She disappeared seventeen years ago. You're sixteen. The very first festival of lights after you leave that tower, all the lanterns start heading towards you. What if she ran away and got pregnant? Or ran away  _ because _ she was pregnant?"

"Explain me, then."

Minato's voice, muffled by the arm he had put over his face, floated over to them. Akira shrugged. "Cousins? I don't know."

"Eh, makes as much sense as anything I've come up with." Minato reached over to the compass he'd left on top of his pack the previous night, idly spinning the directional arm on it. Whatever magic he had used on it seemed to have dissipated.

Yusuke was clearly unconvinced. "Does magic run in the royal family?"

Akira shrugged. "I don't know any more about that than you do."

"Time to go lay my claim to the throne," Minato said dryly. He let his head flop over to the side to face Yusuke. "How're you feeling this morning? Think you could walk?"

"Perhaps." Yusuke moved his ankle carefully. "I don't know that I would want to strain it much."

Minato crawled over, holding his hand out to the bandages around Yusuke's foot. "I'll refresh the cooling and stiffen the wrapping a bit so it'll provide more support."

Akira rolled up his bedroll as Minato worked, then sat down a little ways away. The more he looked between them, the more similarities he could see. Minato's face was a little softer than Yusuke's, but his dark blue hair was almost an exact mirror image of Yusuke's, falling to obscure his right eye. The way they cast magic was extremely similar, as well, and he doubted either of them had had any sort of formal teaching that would explain that.

"Here, uh -- " Minato waved vaguely. "You know, I don't actually know either of your names."

"Yusuke."

"Akira."

"Cool. Let's get Yusuke standing, see how he does trying to walk."

Akira helped Minato get Yusuke to his feet, and Yusuke took a few cautious steps, wincing as he did so. "This is...manageable..."

"Hmm." Minato walked away, scanning the ground for a bit, before finding a good-sized branch and handing it to Yusuke. "Might be good to use this to help keep a little bit of weight off your ankle."

Akira rolled up Yusuke's bedroll for him so he wouldn't have to get back down on the ground before helping him put his pack on his back. "Well, now what? With trying to get out of the fire last night, I have no idea where we are."

"Couple hours west of Gifu," Minato answered. "The road's just north of us."

"Where do we  _ go, _ though?" Yusuke asked, eyes downcast.

"Where were  _ you _ going, Minato?"

Minato gave him a look. "I already told you, I was following the two of you."

"Or -- well, I guess my actual question is more of why you were in Nagoya."

"Been there as long as I can remember. Mom got trampled by a runaway horse a couple years ago, so a couple of her friends helped me get odd jobs here and there to get by. Never knew my dad. Mom wouldn't talk about him. Seemed to be ashamed of something there. I assume I'm somebody's bastard child."

"That's unfortunate." Akira felt a pang of sympathy for Minato. It must have been rough losing his only known parent so recently. At least Akira had been young enough that he could barely remember his parents.

"It is what it is." Minato turned away, clearly not interested in discussing it any further. "My suggestion would be to head to Kyoto. There're enough people there that we'll blend in pretty well. Those drawings they have of the two of you aren't  _ that _ accurate, so as long as you don't do anything stupid, we're probably fine."

"'We'? So you're staying with us?" Yusuke inquired.

Minato shrugged. "If you'll have me. Not like I've got anything particularly great tying me to Nagoya now. Being arrested didn't exactly endear the town to me."

Akira rubbed the back of his neck. Minato had done nothing but help them since he'd shown up, so he probably wasn't a threat. The prick of annoyance he felt probably had way more to do with the disappointment of having to share his time with Yusuke with this newcomer. "I don't have a problem with it," he said reluctantly.

"I am interested in learning more about your magic," Yusuke said. "I would be happy to have you along."

The ghost of a smile passed over Minato's face before he nodded stoically. "All right, then."


	23. May 22 (Yusuke)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for this chapter: panic attack.

Progress was slow. Even with Minato's magic and the walking stick, walking along the rough forest floor was agonizing. The first day had been uncomfortable; the second was pure torture as Yusuke limped along, trying to put as much weight on the walking stick as possible. It felt as if someone was plunging a knife into his ankle every time he stepped on it.

Akira had slowed his pace to walk alongside him. "Are you okay?" he asked worriedly. "You look pale."

"I am fine," Yusuke said through clenched teeth. It was his fault they were in this situation to begin with, so he could hardly ask them to stop for him. "I just -- "  


The walking stick slipped off a rock that had been hidden by leaves, causing him to put more weight on his injured foot than he had expected, and he pitched forward with a cry of pain, landing face down among the decaying leaves.

"Yeah, you're not fine," Minato's voice said from somewhere above him, as tears forced their way out of his closed eyes. His ankle throbbed. "We should find somewhere that we can stop for a couple of days. The longer you try to walk on that ankle now, the worse it's going to get."

"But -- "  


"He's right," Akira said softly, and leaves crunched near Yusuke's head as a hand gently rested on his shoulder. "You can't keep this up."

Another sharp stab of pain took away any words he might have been forming to argue, and he just lay there, feeling more tears stream from his eyes.

"Well, here in the middle of the forest isn't a great place to camp," he heard Minato say. "Stay with him. I'll scout around for a better place."

"You have experience surviving in the forest?" Akira asked skeptically.

"I mean, I've got enough common sense to know we need a flat place to sleep, preferably out of the wind and near water. And I can find my way back to you with this."

"Right, the compass. All right, then. I'll trust you."

"Be back soon."

Minato's footsteps faded away. Yusuke could still feel the warmth of Akira's hand on his shoulder. "Let's try to get you into a more comfortable position," Akira murmured.

Carefully, he helped Yusuke into a sitting position leaning against a tree, propping his injured ankle up on his pack. The pain had dulled somewhat, but his ankle was still throbbing.

Akira brushed some leaves and dirt off of Yusuke's face. "You're a mess," he said, carefully working a small twig loose from where it had gotten tangled in his hair.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize." Akira kissed him, lips soft against his. "It's not your fault."

Yusuke turned his face away, shame burning his cheeks. "It is, though. None of this would have happened if I had just -- "  


"Just what? Magically remembered a traumatic thing that happened to you? Not left that tower prison with me so Madarame could kill you slowly and painfully by making you manifest that potion? Stop it. Stop blaming yourself. No, don't you dare," he added, as Yusuke opened his mouth to protest. "There were just a whole bunch of things that came together in the worst possible way. If you want to blame someone, blame the king who outlawed magic for no logical reason, all right?"

He wished those words made him feel better. "I am exhausted."

"Sleep, if you can. I'll keep watch until Minato comes back."

Yusuke leaned his head back against the tree, closing his eyes. Everything around him seemed to be conspiring against him getting any rest, though; in addition to the pain in his ankle and the ceaseless swirl of despondent thoughts in his mind, every small animal in a kilometer's radius had apparently made it their mission to make as much noise as they could. He drifted in and out of consciousness, unsettled dreams melding with painful reality, until he heard footsteps signaling Minato's return.

"I found a pretty good place not too far from here," Minato said, coming to a stop in front of Yusuke and Akira with his hands in his pockets. "There's a nice little overhang, a clear spring, and it's hidden pretty far from the road. Wouldn't want to start a campfire or anything, still, but it's far enough."

"How far is 'not too far'?" Akira asked. "I think we're going to have to help Yusuke walk."

"Honestly, it only took me about ten minutes to get back here from there, so it shouldn't be too bad to get him there." Minato looked at Yusuke through his hair. "Wish I were taller for this. Akira, I think you should be on his right side, so you can help him keep more weight off his injured side."

Akira nodded, and together the two of them helped Yusuke back to his feet. Minato slung Yusuke's pack over his shoulder and the three of them set off at a torturously slow pace. Nearly half an hour later, Minato pointed with the hand that wasn't helping steady Yusuke. "Over there."

It was a nice spot, the gentle babbling of the spring soothing Yusuke's fraying nerves as Minato and Akira lowered him to the ground. "How are you doing?" Akira asked, for what felt like the hundredth time.

Yusuke shook his head. "Perhaps if I had something to distract me, it wouldn't be quite so bad."

"Well...you've still got your art supplies. Do you want to draw?"

A cold feeling settled in the pit of his stomach, but a fresh stab of pain from his ankle overrode it. "I will try."

Akira retrieved the sketchbook and pencil from Yusuke's pack before once again using it to prop up his injured foot. "Here," he said, handing the art supplies to Yusuke. "Hopefully this'll help you keep your mind off things."

Yusuke stared forlornly at the empty page, pencil hovering over its surface. He had managed to put everything aside long enough to draw the boat for him and Akira to cross the river, but now that he was contemplating drawing just to draw...

He tried to draw the spring in front of him, lines wavering as his hand shook.

_ Yusuke. This is simply inadequate. _

He blinked away the wetness in his eyes as he tried to focus on the stream.

_ You are the artist of this painting, are you not, Yusuke? _

The sounds of the stream had been replaced by an odd buzzing as the pencil pressed hard enough against the paper to break off the tip.

_ Water poured from the canvas as Haruhito stared at him questioningly. _

The pencil and paper fell to the ground as his hands flew up to clutch his hair, and he buried his face in his arms, trembling all over.

_ What I create will simply turn against me.... _

Silent tears fell as he surrendered to the overwhelming clutches of the dark thoughts that would not leave.


	24. May 22 (Minato)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for this chapter: implied suicide.

Minato watched as Yusuke's sketchbook slid to the ground, letting an emotionless mask smooth out his face as Akira immediately abandoned what he was doing to kneel at his side, murmuring soothing words. Yusuke was not responding.

He collected their three waterskins, kneeling by the spring and filling them up one at a time before returning them to their places. Akira now had his arms around Yusuke, stroking his hair with one hand. Minato could see the tears on Yusuke's face. It was a sight he was all too used to. Turning away, he let his mask fall, grimacing as he walked away, giving the two others some privacy.

A short distance away from their campsite, a fallen tree stretched across the small stream. Minato sat down on it, scooting out so his legs dangled over the water with his back to the campsite.

_ "Please don't cry, Mom." _

_ A sniff. "I'm sorry, Minato," Mom said softly. "I don't mean to make you sad, too." _

_ He hugged her tightly. "Is there anything I can do?" _

_ "You're so kind." She shook her head. "I don't know what to do." _

_ It hurt to see her so helpless. _

Minato sighed, kicking his feet against the tree. Barely a month after that conversation, his mother had walked out in front of a runaway horse and been trampled to death. To this day, a part of him assumed she had done it on purpose to escape the darkness of her thoughts. He supposed he could understand that. But for him, it was easier to just shut down. Figuring out how to die would take effort. Figuring out anything took effort. It was easy when other people had taken pity on him as a newly-orphaned child and helped him survive.

It wasn't until he had been arrested and then suddenly released that he had felt a desire to do anything else. Somehow, the presence of guards asking around for someone who looked like him and had magic like him had awakened a sense of -- well, of  _ something, _ at least, and  _ something _ was a whole lot more than the nothing he had felt for the past two years. It had been easy to decide to track down the other boy.

It was frustrating, but not altogether surprising, to see someone falling down that same hole of inexplicable self-blame and sadness. Minato didn't fully understand what Yusuke was feeling so guilty or anxious about, but then again he didn't understand what had driven his mother over the edge even with several years to ask her about it. Maybe Akira would have better luck with Yusuke than Minato had had with his mother.

When he finally walked back to the campsite, Akira was attempting to whittle something out of a stick, and though Yusuke's eyes were still red, he had at least regained enough composure to stop crying. The sketchbook was nowhere to be seen. "Feel better?" Minato asked, because it felt like the right question to ask.

"Marginally." Yusuke sounded tired. "I have, at the minimum, returned to my rightful senses, instead of the feeling that the world is attempting to crush me soul-first."

"That's...good."

A muttered swear came from Akira as his knife slipped on the stick. "I've never been good at this."

"What are you attempting to make?" Yusuke asked.

"Literally just a sharp stick."

Minato idly watched the two of them as they kept talking. There was a softness in the way they interacted that he rarely saw with others. If he was being honest with himself, he was a little jealous of the way Akira gazed at Yusuke, as if no one and nothing else mattered.

He shook his head a little, attempting to brush his hair back behind his ear a couple of times before giving up and letting it fall back in front of his eye again. Maybe someone would look at him like that one day.

"Copper for your thoughts, Minato?"

Minato started, having zoned out enough that he hadn't noticed Yusuke falling asleep on the ground and Akira coming over to him. "Just thinking about people."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

They sat in silence for a minute.

"Yusuke's lucky to have you."

"How do you figure?"

Yusuke stirred, turning his head to the other side.

"You look at him like he's the only person in the world. You're in love with him, aren't you?"

Akira chewed on his lip, as if trying to decide how much he wanted to tell Minato. "I am, yeah," he said finally. "What's it to you?"

"Nothing." Minato shrugged. "I think it's nice. I'm a little jealous of you two."

Akira still had a wary aura about him, as if looking for a trap in Minato's words. Minato held up his hands. "I'm not your enemy, Akira. I know I can't prove that, but I meant it about just wanting to find out more about the only other person I've ever known of that could do magic. And really...it'd be nice to have a friend."

The last sentence was mumbled, as it was a weakness Minato didn't like acknowledging. He had spent so long as a loner, not getting close to any of the kids his age in Nagoya, not wanting to take the chance of sharing his secret with the wrong person, but faced with people he didn't need to hide it from...

Akira ran his fingers through his hair. "Sorry. I've just...had a lot of people not really be who I thought they were. Yusuke was the first person I felt like I could trust in...years, actually. I guess I'm a little prickly."

"Nah, I get it. I'm just not used to being on the receiving end of it. Sucks on both sides, it turns out."

"Yup. Sure does."


	25. May 27 (Akira)

"Well, time to try our luck here," Minato said, gazing forlornly at the walls of Kyoto as they came into view.

Akira glanced over at Yusuke, who was still limping slightly. There was none of the excitement, none of the hope, that he had felt going into Nagoya with Yusuke not even two months ago. His best chance at his dreams had washed away with the water from the painting. He was going to be spending an awful lot of time looking over his shoulder here. But, he supposed, that wouldn't be any different than the rest of his life. Shinjiro's words echoed back to him from years ago.

_ Figure out who you can trust, and make sure  _ they _ trust  _ you _ too. This shithole life's a whole lot easier if you've got somebody watching your back, and a whole lot more worth it if you're watching somebody else's back. _

Although a lot of good that advice had done Shinjiro in the end, Akira reflected darkly.

Still, as he glanced between Yusuke and Minato, he could sense a feeling of warmth. He couldn't rationally explain why he had decided to trust Yusuke in the first place. Maybe it was the air of sincerity and passion that seemed to flow through everything he said and did. And Minato...Minato had had plenty of opportunities to do them harm, and instead he had helped them. There had been no reason for him to jump out to help when Yusuke had sprained his ankle. No reason to actually find a campsite for them instead of finding nearby village guards and turning them in.

Yusuke winced as he stepped a little wrongly on his still-healing ankle, and Akira steadied him. "I don't wish to complain," Yusuke began, in a voice that clearly indicated all he wanted to do was fall asleep for the next fourteen hours, "but perhaps one of you could go on ahead and scout out the city to give us an idea where to go. I would prefer not to have to navigate crowds on this ankle."

"I think that makes sense," Minato said. "Akira, do you want me to go, or do you want to go?"

Akira looked back at the city walls. This was his domain, the skills he'd spent his whole life honing. "No," he said heavily, "I think it'll be better if I go. Let's find a good place out of sight for you two to wait."

Down the hill and out of earshot of the road was a small stream surrounded by trees, so Minato and Yusuke settled in to wait for Akira. "If I'm not back by nightfall, assume the worst," Akira said.

Yusuke glared at him. "Don't say things like that."

"Sorry." Akira wanted to explain more -- that it was a force of habit, that he was scared of what would happen -- but instead, he clamped his mouth shut, gave Yusuke's shoulder a parting squeeze, and disappeared towards the city.

The guards at the gate barely looked twice at him as he walked through with a practiced glance that looked lazy, but was actually swiveling to analyze as much around him as he could. No one in his immediate vicinity was going to attempt to pickpocket him; no one was looking at him because he matched a description on a wanted poster. He kept walking.

"Hey, you."

Normally, he would have pretended not to hear such a vague entreaty, but something in the young woman's voice made him turn. "Hey, yourself."

She was about his age, with dark hair, simple clothes, and everything about her would have fit way better in a library or church than out here running a stall all by herself. At the moment, she looked incredibly relieved that Akira had turned. "I can't believe that finally worked," she said wondrously. "No one ever turns around when I call at them."

Akira examined what was laid out for sale. These appeared to be the work of a skilled woodcarver. There were combs with intricate patterns carved into the wood, buttons, even shogi boards and pieces. "Is this your work?"

"Oh, no," the girl said quickly, shaking her head. "My father does almost all of this. The simpler ones -- " she pointed at a few less-detailed combs -- "are from my brother. I just try to sell them."

"Mm." Akira hummed, having finished his quick inventory. "You just need to learn how to read people a bit."

"I'm sorry?"

"Well, you've got something to sell, right? Somebody in this crowd has a problem that one of these things could solve." He scanned the people nearby. "Let's see....She's looking for something for her mother." He nodded towards another girl their age, who was picking up and putting down small metal trinkets at the stall next to them, face scrunched in thought. "He's done something wrong and is hoping to find something to placate his girlfriend, or wife." A nervous-looking man staring at a display of gauzy fabric flowers. "And  _ she's _ looking for just the right piece to complete her  _ ensemble _ \-- " with an annoyingly nasal emphasis on the fancy word -- "for a special event."

The girl was watching him with a slightly open mouth. "You can tell all that just by looking at them?"

"They're all guesses." Akira shrugged modestly.

"So -- how would you try to get their attention?" she asked earnestly.

"May I?"

"Of course."

Akira pretended to lean casually on one of the supports of the stand, waiting for his moment. As the girl next door straightened up and backed away from the stand without buying anything, he called lightly, "I bet she'd love one of these  _ kanzashi." _

She turned, lips parted in an 'O' shape, before approaching the stall shyly. "These are amazing! Can you tell me about the different ones?"

Akira nodded to the girl actually running the stand, who was still standing dumbfounded. "She can tell you anything you want to know."

Her eyes widened for just a second, before she hurried into place. "O -- of course."

A few minutes later, when the customer had walked away with a carefully wrapped pair of wooden hair pins cradled to her chest, he nodded. "That's it. Just try to make a guess at what they're shopping for, who it might be for and why, and try to say something to pull them in based on that. It won't work all the time, for sure. There's a reason I didn't try to pull in that fancy lady from over there; she's been picking through every single thing in three stalls and asking really annoying questions, so even if I could've gotten her attention, you probably wouldn't have liked dealing with her."

She giggled. "You're really good at this."

"I've had some practice reading people."

"Oh -- my manners. My name is Hifumi. If I could ask -- I'd like to know who's teaching me. What's your name?"

He flashed her a disarming grin. "I'm Akira."

Hifumi curtseyed. "Thank you for your help, Akira. I'm guessing you're not looking to buy any sort of wooden carvings, but is there anything I can do to repay your kindness?"

"See? You're learning to read people already." Akira smiled again. "To tell you the truth, I just arrived here. If I were looking for a place to stay the night that had reasonable accommodations and prices, do you know where I could look?"

Hifumi thought for a moment. "Most travelers stay at the Sakura. If you follow the road just inside the gate to the right, you'll find it at the end. It has quite an excellent onsen, from what I've heard."

Akira's feet ached sharply at that moment, making the prospect of soaking in an onsen sound amazing. "Sounds excellent. I'll check it out. Good luck with your selling, Hifumi."

She waved at him as he turned away, heading in the direction she'd indicated. The road to the inn was pretty ordinary; this was a well-maintained part of town, so nothing unsavory jumped out at him. The inn itself also seemed pretty sturdy, if unremarkable; he inquired about vacancies and was informed that there was plenty of room for the night, so he headed back towards the gate to meet back up with Yusuke and Minato.

When he made it back to where he'd left them, Minato was idly making a little doll crafted out of grass walk around with magic, and Yusuke had a little songbird chirping on his shoulder. Akira suppressed his surprise as they both watched his approach; given how traumatic Yusuke's last attempt at drawing had been, he had expected it to be a while longer before he drew again.

Minato yawned, dismissing the magic on the grass doll and letting it flop limply onto the ground. "Find a place?"

"Yeah, with an onsen and everything. Just inside the gate."

Yusuke held his hand up to his shoulder and the bird hopped onto it, still singing cheerfully. "That is wonderful news!" The bird glowed golden for a moment before dissolving into particles of light and fading away into his palm. "Shall we head there now?"

Akira checked the position of the sun. "Yeah, might as well. Not like there's really anything else we're planning on doing today. And getting a nice bath and a soak in the onsen sounds really good right about now."

"Indeed."

Minato lagged behind, giving Akira the opportunity to lean close to Yusuke. "Feeling okay about drawing again?"

"Minato and I were talking about it while you were gone," Yusuke murmured. "I still feel apprehensive about it, but it's who I am. I cannot suppress it -- nor, truth be told, do I wish to."

"I'm glad." Akira bumped his hand into Yusuke's as they walked towards their new town.


	26. May 27 (Yusuke)

Yusuke stepped into the private shower stall to wash up before heading into the onsen. The innkeeper had taken great pride in informing them that even the showers used the natural spring waters, so he was quite looking forward to that in addition to merely scrubbing off the grime from their journey. He hung his clean (well, cleaner, at least) clothes up on one wall of the cramped dressing area before disrobing and hanging the clothes he'd been wearing since Nagoya on the other wall. Delicately, he stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain closed behind him.

The hot water felt like heaven on his bare skin, and he just stood there for a full minute with eyes shut in bliss, letting it cascade over him. When he finally stirred, he ran his hands through his wet hair a few times before reaching for the soap. It really was time for him to request assistance with a haircut; he could feel the ends of his hair brushing against his shoulders, and constantly brushing it out of his eyes was quite bothersome.

He worked the soap into his scalp, letting his mind wander. Akira was in one of these stalls, as well; Yusuke allowed himself to visualize the other boy, lithe arms flexing as he washed his messy dark hair tamed only slightly by the running water, before he stepped behind Yusuke with a little smirk, wet hands slipping around his waist as he pulled him into his chest, his breath ghosting tantalizingly across Yusuke's neck --

Yusuke opened his eyes, shaking his head roughly and sending water droplets flying. This was not the right time for such indelicate fantasies. He studiously focused on scrubbing his skin with the somewhat rough washcloth, willing his mind and body to calm down. Thankfully, by the time he stepped out, he had regained his composure, ready to join Akira and Minato in the hot spring.

There were a few other travelers in the onsen when they entered, but fortunately, it was relatively empty. Akira slipped into the water first with a satisfied groan. "Oh, this was everything I needed."

Yusuke let Minato follow Akira next, wanting to put a little distance between himself and his boyfriend after his mental escapade in the shower. "Yeah, it's pretty nice," Minato agreed, settling in and immediately plopping his small towel on top of his head.

Yusuke stepped carefully into the water, sitting down and letting its warmth envelop him. "This feels quite delightful after our travels."

"You talk like a book, you know that?" Minato mumbled.

"You told me that once before, yes," Yusuke said, letting a touch of acidity into his voice. "I had a dearth of opportunities to learn conversational language in the modern vernacular while I was growing up."

"No offense. I think it's funny."

Yusuke extended his leg, carefully rolling his injured ankle back and forth in the water. It already felt better than it had since before he had sprained it. With a pleased sigh, he leaned back.

After a while, just when Yusuke was starting to move from being pleasantly warm to slightly overheated, Akira stretched one last time and turned to him and Minato. "Ready to dry off and see about dinner?"

"Sounds good," Minato drawled, and Yusuke nodded.

They got out of the water, and Yusuke tried not to look at Akira as they toweled off, which he was pretty sure he failed miserably at because Minato caught his eye and gave him a long, slow wink before pulling his shirt on over his head. Yusuke closed his eyes as he put on his own shirt, willing the floor beneath him to open up and swallow him in his embarrassment.

Dinner was quiet, none of them wanting to risk being overheard discussing anything about their plans. When Akira and Yusuke stood up to head back to the room, Minato stayed seated. "Aren't you coming?" Akira asked.

"Nah, I'll stay out for...half an hour. No reason." Minato looked utterly unconcerned as he tipped his chair back on two legs, and again Yusuke felt his cheeks burning.

Akira raised his eyebrows. "I don't believe you about the reason, but you're being way too obvious to have any awful plan or anything, so...you do you, I guess. See you in a bit, then."

Once the door had closed behind them and Akira had lit the lantern in their room, he looked at Yusuke, expression going from curious to a smirk. "I don't suppose  _ you _ have any ideas why Minato was so eager to leave us alone for a bit," he said, walking over casually to stand very much in Yusuke's personal space.

Yusuke wet his lips nervously with his tongue. "I might," he admitted, and in a heady rush of courage, pulled Akira into him, one hand at the small of his back and the other tangled in his hair, as both of Akira's hands came up to pull Yusuke into a passionate liplock, stealing his breath away in that single motion.

As they separated just enough to breathe, Akira's fingertips traced down Yusuke's sides, and he shivered with a small gasp. He felt Akira's lips on his, then his cheek, then his neck just below his ear, each point of contact a new fire blazing through him. "You like that?" Akira whispered, and all Yusuke could do was moan. "Good."

Teeth gently grazed his earlobe as he fumbled with the back of Akira's shirt, slipping his hand under it to touch his skin. He dragged his fingers up Akira's spine and was rewarded by Akira arching into him, exposing the pale skin on his neck. Yusuke bent his face down, placing his mouth over the pulse point, feeling it match his own racing heart as he tasted Akira's skin.

"Yusuke," Akira moaned breathily, and his own name had never incited such a  _ need _ in him as they stumbled clumsily to the nearest futon, Akira nearly tripping and falling on the way. They laughed as they dropped down on top of it, but Yusuke's laugh gave way to another gasp as Akira gazed up at him with half-lidded eyes from where he was pinned to the futon before sliding his hands inside Yusuke's shirt, pulling it over his head, and tossing it aside.

"Akira -- !"

Akira pulled him down on top of him, kissing him roughly as his hips thrust up into him, and it was all he could do to not lose control at that very moment, clenching the blanket in his hands. Still straddling Akira, he pulled him up into a sitting position, clumsily ridding him of his shirt as well before pushing him back to the floor and letting his mouth wander down Akira's bare chest. The sounds of Akira slowly becoming undone underneath him were driving him mad as he deliberately, carefully dragged a fingernail across one of Akira's nipples.

"Oh!"

The genuine cry of pleasure as Akira's eyes flew open was music to his ears, and he moved to repeat the act --

"Oh, Jesus Christ."

Yusuke whipped his head around to see Minato in the doorway, hand flying up to shield his face as he looked away. "I -- uh, okay. I'll just -- I'll let you two have a little longer."

"Wanna join?" Akira asked roguishly from his position under Yusuke.

"I should  _ go." _

Yusuke had never seen anyone move so quickly as Minato beat a hasty retreat back out of the room. Akira laughed sheepishly, rubbing the top of his head with his hand. "I, uh, didn't realize it had already been half an hour."

Regretfully, Yusuke stood up, retrieving both of their shirts from where they had been tossed. "I suppose neither of us were paying particular attention to the time."

"Yeah, I had more important things to think about." Akira reached up, catching Yusuke's hand in his.

Yusuke smiled, dropping Akira's shirt onto his chest. "We should make ourselves decent before we traumatize Minato any further."

"Oh, he'll live." But Akira still sat up and put his shirt back on.

It was several more minutes before there was a knock at the door. "We're decent," Akira called.

Minato carefully opened the door, peeking through his fingers. " I said half an hour, not all night," he grumbled, closing the door behind him.

"We lost track of time," Yusuke said apologetically.

"No shit." Minato picked up his book and flopped onto the futon as far from the one the other two had been lying on as he could.

"Is this going to be a problem?" Akira asked coolly, an edge to his voice.

Minato's free hand waved dismissively, his face hidden by the book. "I've got no problem with you two dating. You can have all the sex you want, I just don't want to be around for it. Yusuke looks a little too much like me for me to be entirely comfortable with the sight."

"Wasn't really thinking about that," Akira muttered, looking somewhat chastised. "Sorry. We'll be more discreet in the future."

Yusuke blushed at the thought of there being future experiences like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had writer's block so bad at this point until my brain was like "obligatory hot springs episode? Obligatory hot springs episode."


	27. May 28 (Akira)

Akira wandered down the road, hands in his pockets. Take two of trying to find honest work in a new city. If he'd known it would be this hard, maybe he would've stayed in Joetsu instead of traveling south. He didn't vocalize any of this, though; Yusuke and Minato were trailing behind him, and while Minato probably wouldn't have cared, he didn't want to upset Yusuke with idle thoughts he didn't really mean.

"Oh." He stopped, recognizing his surroundings. "This is where a lot of the artisans have their stalls. Yusuke, you might be able to find something here."

"I look forward to ruining the opportunity in a month," Yusuke said dully.

"Hey, none of that, okay? We already went over how that wasn't your fault."

"Besides, you already have me around to be dead inside," Minato deadpanned. "I can't have competition there. It's my greatest talent."

They turned down the street. With a small smile, Akira glanced towards Hifumi's stall and saw that she was speaking to a woman, clearly gesturing with some degree of enthusiasm towards a comb that was for sale. Akira waited until the woman had walked away, clutching her purchase, before sauntering up.

"Hey, Hifumi."

"Akira!" She looked surprised at his appearance, but beamed just the same. "I've been trying to practice your advice yesterday and today, and it's been working!"

Akira grinned at Hifumi. "Yeah? That's great! How many customers have you sold to?"

"Probably five, if I remember correctly? That's as much in four hours as I've been getting in three days. I can't thank you enough. I might actually be able to prove to my father that I can run this stand."

"Prove to him? Have you had disagreements about whether you could do it?"

"A little. I wanted him to expand out a little beyond just the small shop he has on our property, especially since my brother is starting to make things too, but he said it was too much work. So I had a month to prove that it could be a worthwhile endeavor."

"Oh, wow. How long have you been at this, then?"

"About two weeks."

"Oh, so I came around just in time, then?" he said, grinning.

"You certainly did. I hope I can repay the favor sometime." She looked past him to where Minato and Yusuke were hovering awkwardly just out of conversation range. "Are those friends of yours?"

"Yup, sure are. As it turns out, we're all looking for work. Do you know of anyone who might need some odd jobs done, or might want an assistant for something?"

"An assistant, or something." Hifumi looked thoughtful. "You could try asking Aguri-san, down at the end of the street in that yarn shop. There's usually something she's asking for. I don't know how much steady employment she could provide, but it would at least be something?"

"All right, we'll go talk to her. Thanks!"

"No, thank you. I hope to see you again."

Akira nodded his head in the direction she had pointed as he rejoined Yusuke and Minato. "Might have a lead down at the yarn shop."

As they walked, Akira took a look at the stalls as he passed. There were many crafts on display here, everything from Hifumi's woodcrafts to gaudy metallic jewelry that looked like it might have been imported from overseas. This wouldn't have been his first choice for a place to find a job for himself, but he was sure he could at least find something to do for a bit to bring in some money.

As they entered the small shop, he was stunned at the sheer variety of yarn that was available. It was all meticulously labeled and organized, but even with the carefully-stacked shelves reaching up to the ceiling, the effect was somehow still cozy instead of claustrophobic.

An older woman was in the back, methodically feeding a cloud of fiber into a spinning wheel as her foot tapped a steady rhythm with the pedal. "Welcome to Aguri's Excess, where I put my passion for fiber arts on display in the hopes that somebody loves them just as much as I do. Can't say I've seen you boys before. How can I help you?"

"We're looking for work, and a young woman by the name of Hifumi said she thought you might be of some assistance," Akira said, internally raising his eyebrows at how much that sentence sounded like it should have come out of Yusuke's mouth. Clearly, he had been listening to the artist talk too much.

She laughed, somehow still managing to keep spinning as she threw her head back in mirth. "Ah, guess she's gotten tired of me wheedling errands out of her. As luck would have it, business is booming, and there are quite a few things I can have you all do." Still grinning, she brought the spinning wheel to a stop before retrieving a second, slightly bulkier wheel from the corner of the shop. "You there," she said, pointing to Minato. "What's your name?"

"Minato."

"I'll teach you to spin, Minato. What about your mirror image?"

"I'm taller than he is," Akira heard Yusuke mutter, before at normal volume: "Yusuke."

"Yusuke, I have some crochet projects that need to be done. I'll teach you the stitches and how to read the patterns. And you..." She stared at Akira for so long that he shifted his weight uneasily. "For now, I'll have you sort orders into boxes. I've got a shipment of goods that need to go to Tokyo."

By the end of the day, Akira was starting to be able to identify the difference between cotton and wool yarn by touch, and had accumulated a fine dusting of stray yarn fibers on his clothes. When Aguri called him out front, he emerged from the storeroom to find Yusuke proudly displaying a small finished toy and Minato somehow with a halo of white wool fibers atop his blue hair.

Aguri was examining Minato's work on the spinning wheel. "Tomorrow, focus more on feeding a consistent amount of fiber through," she said. "You may need to fluff the roving more before feeding in. But all in all, you did quite well for your first day."

Minato gave a short bow. "Thank you, Aguri-san."

She waved her hand at him. "Thank  _ you _ all for helping me. Now..." She opened a small pouch concealed in her kimono and counted out coins for them. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Could I ask a favor?" Yusuke asked suddenly.

She chuckled. "On your first day of work? You're bold."

"Do you perhaps have a pair of sharp scissors I could borrow for the evening? I would dearly love a haircut."

Her chuckle became a full-on laugh as she retrieved a suitable pair of scissors from a drawer. "Don't stab anyone with them, all right?"

"Has that been a concern for you in the past?" Yusuke asked, eyes wide as he accepted the scissors.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she said mysteriously. "Just bring them back tomorrow."

Once they had gotten back to the inn, eaten, and returned to their room, Yusuke turned to Akira. "Could I request your assistance?" he asked, holding up the scissors.

"You realize they have actual people who do haircuts for a living, right?"

"You realize we have no money?" Minato said from behind his book.

"Do you ever have your nose out of a book?" Akira snapped.

"Can you even  _ read _ a book?" Minato shot back.

"Oh fuck you, just because I grew up on the streets doesn't mean I can't read."

"And just because I read doesn't mean I lack real-world skills." Minato dropped the book to his chest to shoot a look of annoyance at Akira. "What's your problem?"

Akira took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. "I don't know," he admitted. "I guess I'm a little on edge and I'm taking it out on you. I'm sorry."

Minato held his gaze for a moment, then one corner of his mouth quirked up in a half-smile. "When we find a permanent place to stay here in Kyoto, can we try to get separate rooms? Because you clearly need to get laid more often."

Yusuke covered his face with both hands.

"I mean, you're not wrong."

"That's it," Yusuke said plaintively through his fingers. "I have died. This is hell. I am being tortured."

Akira ruffled his hair fondly. "All right, let's do something about this hair."

With Yusuke's guidance, Akira managed to do what he thought was a passable job, trimming away some of the unwanted length in the back and shortening his fringe so it wouldn't fall into his eyes as much. Yusuke smiled softly at him in the reflection of the mirror. "Thank you, Akira. That feels much better."

"You could always just grow it out and tie it back," Akira suggested.

"I used to. I cannot count the number of times the ends picked up paint and made a mess because I wasn't paying attention. I believe I will continue with short hair at this point."

"Fair enough."

Akira glanced at Minato to make sure he was safely hidden behind his book and stole a kiss from Yusuke's lips. The smile he got in return was well worth the exasperated sigh from the futon behind them. "I can still hear even if I can't see!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, sorry for disappearing for a week -- depression kind of hit me in the face for a while.


	28. May 29 (Yusuke)

"All right," Akira said, unlocking the door. "Home sweet home."

Yusuke followed him into the tiny apartment, Minato trailing behind. Hifumi had once again come through for them, having heard of a place for rent that was within the amount they could afford. The main room had an old table shoved in the corner, with two rickety chairs pushed up to it. A small stove and sink basin framed either side of a cupboard that stretched to the ceiling in the adjacent corner. Between the two corners was a door leading to another, smaller room. "This seems cozy."

"You mean minuscule," Minato corrected. "Whatever, it'll work. I can just sleep in that corner over there so you two can have the other room. As far away from me as possible."

"We already apologized for the other night," Akira said exasperatedly.

"Yeah, and I'm just trying to make sure it doesn't happen again. My poor innocent eyes have already seen too much." Minato rolled his eyes, but Yusuke saw the ghost of an affectionate smirk on his lips before he dropped his pack in the corner and started unrolling his bedroll.

Yusuke stepped into the other room. There was a small dresser with a lantern and wash basin atop it next to the door, and a single futon lay on the tatami. In the dim evening light, he lit the lantern, smiling at Minato and Akira's banter still floating in from the main room. Making sure he was out of sight of the door, he quickly slipped into his sleeping clothes. As he was unfastening his bedroll, Akira came in, closing the door behind him. "What're you doing?" he asked.

Yusuke frowned in confusion. "There is only the one futon," he pointed out.

"And...?"

If anyone could be the very picture of devilish innocence, it was Akira at that moment. Yusuke's hands stilled as heat rose in his face at the implication. Akira's smile widened before he turned away to change clothes.

The thin blanket that had been provided for the futon was perfect as Akira pulled Yusuke close in the darkness, fingertips softly tracing an idle pattern on his shoulder as Yusuke rested his head on Akira's chest. "Are you comfortable?" Akira murmured, heartbeat slow and soothing in Yusuke's ear.

"Yes," Yusuke whispered, already feeling drowsy in Akira's embrace.

The next morning, he woke to a featherlight caress on his cheek, sleepily opening his eyes to see Akira's face close to his. "Good morning," he said hazily, turning his head slightly into Akira's touch.

Akira's lips were soft against his, and Yusuke closed his eyes again as he returned the kiss, threading his fingers through Akira's hair as he responded in kind, letting his lips part to admit Akira's tongue as the kiss deepened.

Akira shifted position, pulling Yusuke up into a sitting position without separating them, fingers brushing bare skin as his warm hands tugged the hem of Yusuke's shirt upwards, only moving away long enough to pull it over Yusuke's head and repeat it with his own shirt. Fully awake now, Yusuke playfully pushed Akira onto his back, Akira's breathy laugh barely audible in the quiet room as he let himself fall backwards. "You like taking control, don't you?" he whispered, as Yusuke trailed kisses down the side of his neck.

"I -- " another kiss, this one at the base of Akira's neck, as he pinned Akira's wrists to the pillow on either side of his head -- "suppose so."

Yusuke released Akira's wrists and lightly dragged his fingernails down his sides, watching Akira bite his lip and shudder as he let him slide his hands inside the waistband of his pajamas, lifting his hips off the ground enough to allow the cloth to slide off. "God, Yusuke," he whispered, one hand reaching over and clutching the edge of the blanket that had slipped off next to them.

With only the faintest idea what to do, Yusuke knelt between Akira's legs, lowering his mouth to the tip of his erection, swirling his tongue around it and tasting the slightly bitter tang of Akira's precome as the other panted, twitching in pleasure as Yusuke took more of him into his mouth --

"Are you two awake yet?" Minato's voice called from the other room. "We're gonna be late for work."

Yusuke pulled upright as Akira stared up at the ceiling, sucking in a frustrated breath through clenched teeth. "I'm gonna kill him," he groaned.

"I can understand the sentiment." Yusuke was suddenly quite aware of the heat between his own legs as he moved away, giving Akira room to roll over and bury his face in the pillow. "We'll be out in a few minutes," he called out to Minato, to keep the other from trying to open the door to make sure they'd heard him.

"Okay, but seriously, hurry up."

After a few minutes to recover and pull on clothes, they walked out of the bedroom with just enough time to eat some of the dried meat that they had previously purchased before heading out to start the day.


	29. May 30 (Minato)

Minato's foot kept a steady rhythm on the spinning wheel, the fiber soft in his fingers as it was pulled into the wheel. Aguri had explained all the names of the parts of the wheel to him, as well as the parts of the process that he would be doing, but it hadn't seemed particularly important for him to memorize them...so he hadn't.

Yusuke was sitting at the work table nearby, frowning at the pattern lying in front of him. Minato glanced over, only able to look quickly before he had to pay attention to what he was doing. "What is it?" Yusuke asked.

"Hm?"

"You keep looking over at me. Is there something you wish to ask?"

"Eh. Oh, shit."

Minato sighed as the wheel pulled in the fiber with too much enthusiasm, separating the strand being wound away from the fiber in his hand. He stopped the wheel, beginning the annoying task of locating the end of the strand and pulling it back through the eyelet. "I'm just jealous of you, that's all," he mumbled, using his task as an excuse not to look at Yusuke.

"Jealous?" Yusuke sounded disbelieving. "I hardly think my life is worthy of jealousy."

Minato retrieved the little hook from the bench next to him, poking it through the hole and looping the strand around it. "Literally the first person you met in the real world fell madly in love with you," he said. Relatively even tone, he noted; he let himself feel a little pride in the fact that he hadn't sounded nearly as bitter as he had felt watching Akira close the bedroom door behind himself as he'd gone in to join Yusuke the previous night. "Feels like that's worth a little jealousy."

Yusuke was silent, and Minato didn't even have to look up to know he was gazing at him with that piercing artist's gaze of his. "Forgive me," he said finally, as Minato pulled the strand back through the hole, "but I'm not entirely sure what you want me to do with this knowledge. Is there anything that I've done to make you uncomfortable? It isn't my intent to flaunt my relationship."

"No." Minato dropped the hook back down onto the bench next to him. "I don't know why I told you. Forget it."

"Minato -- "  


"I said forget it." Minato pressed the pedal with his foot, feeding the loose fiber into the end of the strand and feeling a grumpy satisfaction when it curled perfectly into what it was supposed to be and he could keep working. Yusuke made a sound as if he wanted to keep talking, but didn't.

The silence between them was tenser than it had been, the soft sounds of the spinning wheel the only sound in the room. Minato fed the last of the fiber in his hands into the wheel, stopping it so he could replace the full bobbin (one of the few parts whose name he had managed to remember) with an empty one. When this was finished, he finally decided on what to say. "I feel like such a third wheel around you two," he admitted. "I like you both, and there's not really anything I want either of you to change, but you've still got something special between the two of you that I'll never be a part of and that I don't have with anyone else either. Like I said -- I don't know why I'm even telling you this. It's not like there's anything different to be done."

"You will find someone someday, if that's what you want. As for now -- " Yusuke was studying him again, but this time Minato met his gaze. "Perhaps there isn't anything to be done, but I thank you for being honest. I will do my best to be more cognizant of your feelings from now on. And if I meet anyone who may be a suitable match, I will introduce them to you."

Minato lightly chucked the small hook at Yusuke's arm, where it bounced harmlessly off his sleeve and fell to the floor. "I don't need your charity."

"Very well. If I meet any horrible ogres, I will introduce them to you. They might be more appreciative." Yusuke tossed the hook back at him, amusement clear in his eyes.  


"Match made in heaven. Can't wait."


	30. June 1 (Yusuke)

"What is that noise?" Minato mumbled.

Yusuke looked over from the small stove in the tiny kitchen. Minato was lying on his back, still in his bedroll, with his arm thrown over his eyes, which was apparently his favorite position in the mornings. "Do you mean my cooking? I can stop, if you don't wish to eat this morning."

"No, smartass. Outside."

Yusuke stopped to listen. There was a sound of trumpets echoing distantly.

"Is there a royal visit today?" Akira asked, coming out of the other room.

"How would we not have heard about that?" Minato asked, finally sitting up and pushing the blanket off himself.

Akira shrugged, palms up. "Maybe we should go out and see what all the fuss is about."

Minato grabbed his day clothes from the floor and pulled the blanket back over himself to get dressed. "Fine," his voice floated from under the blanket, "but I'm taking a pancake with me."

"With no syrup?" Yusuke asked, scandalized.

Minato resurfaced, hair sticking up in the back of his head. "Yes, Yusuke, with no syrup. Unless you want to lick the stickiness off my hands when I'm done eating."

"That would be deeply disturbing if we are in fact related, but still unpalatable if we aren't."

"Think there's a chance of that, then?" Akira asked.

Yusuke shrugged. "We share some similar features, and each have a parent we cannot account for. That is all I can conclude with certainty."

Akira tilted his head thoughtfully. "Well, not  _ all. _ Minato remembers his mom, and yours died when you were little -- "  


" -- at least, that's what Sensei -- er, Madarame -- told me -- "  


" -- so that's probably not how you're related. Minato, did your mom have your hair and eyes?"

Minato shook his head. "Nope. Not even a little."

"So that theory's at least plausible. Maybe you're half-siblings and your dad is just a cheating asshole?"

"As good a theory as any." Minato roughly combed his fingers through his hair before grabbing one of the pancakes Yusuke had already cooked. "Wanna head out?"

"Not particularly," Yusuke said under his breath, but turned off the stove and followed the other two out and down to the street.

They had barely emerged onto the street when Hifumi saw them and waved timidly. Akira led them over to her. "What's going on out here?" he asked.

"The annual royal visit," she explained. "Every June, the king comes to the palace in Kyoto. Part of it is a vacation, but he also hears grievances from the locals. It's a nice opportunity for him to maintain a connection to the people down here. This is the main road in from the gate, so the royal entourage travels down it to get to the palace."

"Huh. Not every day you get to see royalty," Minato said, quirking an eyebrow in something approximating actual interest.

Hifumi bobbed her head. "Since the first falls on a Sunday, there's quite the crowd to greet him. Most of the time, it's just children and housewives, as the rest of the town continues to work. Oh!" She turned quickly towards the gate. "They're entering the town now."

Yusuke followed her gaze, shading his eyes with his hand against the morning sun. A man, presumably the king, was astride a horse, surrounded by guards, and followed by a couple of wagons. "That is a surprisingly small procession for someone of that stature."

"He's pretty reasonable for a monarch, I feel like," Akira mused. "I've heard about these visits before. He used to make more of them years ago."

"Now it's just Kyoto and Hiroshima," Hifumi added.

"What caused the decrease in visits?" Yusuke asked.

Akira shrugged and Hifumi shook her head.

The small procession was drawing closer. Yusuke studied the monarch thoughtfully. His hair, parted off to the side, was streaked with gray, but what remained of its original color was a rich, deep blue, eerily similar to --

Minato was already staring at Yusuke when he looked over, mouth slightly agape. For all the similarities Minato bore to Yusuke, it was nothing in comparison to how perfectly he could have been a younger version of the king. Hair, eyes, facial structure --

"I'm -- dreaming -- right?" Minato whispered, eyes wide.

At that moment, the king's gaze came to rest on Yusuke, and time seemed to halt as first curiosity, then surprise, then -- recognition? -- passed over his face, and with a word, the procession stopped.

As the older man dismounted and walked towards him, he felt Akira move closer, and a comforting hand slipped into his, grounding him. A hush had fallen over the crowd, and Yusuke felt the suffocating gaze of dozens of people. The king stopped directly in front of them, looking between Minato and Yusuke. "Never have I seen two people that look so much like me," he murmured, as if trying to keep the onlookers from overhearing. "Forgive me, but I would like to speak to the two of you in private. Could I request you to come with me to the palace?"

Instinctively, Yusuke looked at Akira, hoping that he understood something from the expression of -- well, he was not exactly sure what expression was on his face, but he hoped Akira could tell. Relief washed over him as Akira spoke. "Would you allow me to come, as well, Your Majesty?"

The king's gaze flickered to their joined hands. "Of course."

Still dumbfounded, and feeling as if he might faint, Yusuke let Akira pull him forward, falling into place where they were guided into the procession, and he felt Minato bump his other shoulder. "Close your mouth so you don't catch flies," Minato whispered, and Yusuke snapped his mouth shut, feeling a slight bit of tension easing at Minato's familiar snarky attitude.

The atmosphere of the crowd had changed. It was not hostile, exactly, but Yusuke struggled to describe even to himself the undercurrent he was feeling from the people lining the streets. Perhaps it was merely curiosity, but he couldn't shake the feeling that someone -- or multiple someones -- was displeased with what they saw.

The walk to the palace was shorter than Yusuke had been expecting, and he only had to suffer ten minutes of the most uncomfortable time of his life before they were safely within the castle grounds. Ahead of them, the king said something to one of his retainers, who nodded and approached the three of them. "Good morning," he said, bowing. "My name is Souji, and I will be your guide today. If it would please you to follow me, I can show you to your rooms."

"There are already rooms for us?" Yusuke asked in surprise, and Souji smiled, hair and eyes both shining silver in the morning light.

"It helps that this palace is largely empty for the majority of the year, and is thoroughly cleaned and readied in preparation for the king's visit. There are enough extra rooms that it's no trouble to allot three extra on short notice."

"Wow," was Minato's eloquent response from Yusuke's left.

"Indeed." Souji's eyes twinkled, and Yusuke got the sense that this man had an excellent sense of humor. "May I show you to your rooms, then?"

They followed behind him in silence. Yusuke tried not to look around himself too much, still feeling a touch confused and rather overwhelmed. As they entered the main castle, Souji paused. "Welcome to the palace," he said. "While you're here, please do not hesitate to call for me if there is anything you need. I regret that I can't give you the full tour right now, but on our right are the dining hall and the royal quarters. Upstairs are where the majority of the guest rooms are, and where you will be staying while you're here."

"How -- how long will we be staying?" Yusuke inquired tentatively.

Souji shrugged, one palm delicately upturned. "That is up to you and to His Majesty," he said. "But I hope you find your lodgings to your liking while you are here."

They followed him up the stairs, passing a small handful of servants who were tidying up a few last-minute things. The upstairs hallway was not as grand as the lower entrance area, but it was still well-constructed, and the plush rug underneath muffled their footsteps quite effectively. Souji unlocked one door, giving a key to Minato. "Your room," he said, bowing slightly.

Akira and Yusuke were given rooms next to each other, across from Minato, and after asking their names Souji left them, promising to return in half an hour to bring them to the king. It was strange, Yusuke realized with a pang, to not be sharing a room with Akira, now that he had gotten used to it over the past couple of months.

With a sigh, he turned to the mirror that was hung on the wall above the dresser. There was nothing he could do about the plain, low-class clothes that he was wearing, but at least he could comb his hair, which he had neglected to do that morning before leaving the apartment. Standing in front of the mirror that was hung on the wall behind the wash basin, he dipped the comb in a bit of water before carefully pulling it through his hair, successfully positioning it where he wanted. He was quite glad he had finally asked Akira for that haircut.

When he had fixed his hair to his liking and washed his face, he sat gingerly on the edge of the chair next to the dresser, unsure what to do with himself. After only a few seconds, he sighed, quietly opening the door to the hallway to find himself face-to-face with Minato. "Can I come in?" the other boy asked, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

Yusuke nodded and stepped aside to let him enter. Minato glanced around the room as Yusuke shut the door behind him, before awkwardly dropping into  _ seiza _ on the tatami floor. "Why are you sitting like that?" Yusuke asked, tilting his head to one side.

"Dunno," Minato mumbled. "I can't even begin to describe how out of place I feel here. My mom and I couldn't afford to even  _ look _ at anything nice enough to be here. We're in a  _ palace, _ Yusuke, and hell if I know how but we might be about to either find out we're related to the king or -- I don't know, getting our heads chopped off for something?"

"Those are two very divergent outcomes." Yusuke knelt on the floor next to Minato, carefully arranging his legs and feet into the proper  _ seiza _ position.

"I know." Minato's voice dropped to a whisper. "But with everything that happened in Nagoya -- " He broke off, and there was fear in his eyes as he stared at Yusuke.

"Then you'll have to enchant something to get us out of here." Yusuke placed a hand on Minato's shoulder, pulling him into an embrace when Minato didn't immediately shrug him off.

He felt a huff from the other, then Minato hugged him back. "You're such a dork," he grumbled.

"I'm fine with that."

When they pulled apart, Minato looked a little less afraid. "I guess there are worse people to potentially be related to."

"I just wonder how that could be proven...."

There was a knock on the door.

"Guess we'll find out soon enough, won't we?"

Together, they rose up from the floor and crossed to the door, opening it to find Souji waiting for them in the hallway. "The king would like to talk to you now," he said, bowing once again.

Akira was peering out into the hallway from his door. "Go on without me," he said quietly, looking pensive. "I wanted to be here to support you, but...I don't think this conversation is really for me to hear. I'll be here for whatever you need after, though."

Yusuke held his gaze for a moment, unsure whether he wanted to comfort the other or be comforted by him. When Akira pulled back inside the room, he turned away, allowing himself to be led back down the corridor.

"So how did you start working here?" Minato asked Souji after a minute, breaking the silence just before it became awkward, as they walked down the halls towards the king's quarters.

The silver-haired man hummed. "I rescued the king's favorite musician from where he had gotten himself stuck in an outhouse, and he recommended me for a position."

Even Yusuke chuckled at that.

"I've been working here for about five years. It's a good job; I get to send money home to my family. Uncle's been struggling since his wife died, and every little bit helps him give my cousin Nanako the life she deserves."

"Do you get to see them often?" Yusuke asked.

Souji's face fell a little. "Only about once a year," he said. "They live here in Kyoto, so I get to see them while we're here on the state visit. Otherwise, not really. If there's ever a need for a lady-in-waiting, I think Nanako would be excellent at it, but since there aren't any queens or princesses..."

Souji trailed off as they reached a closed set of double doors guarded by two serious-looking men in uniform, who nodded at him and opened the doors to admit them. Suddenly, Yusuke wished Akira had come along for this talk. Even with Minato there, he felt uncomfortably alone.

Three comfortable-looking armchairs were situated around a small table in an alcove with floor-to-ceiling windows. The sun was a bit too high up to stream directly through the windows, but the alcove was still comfortably bright. A large teapot and teacups were set out on the table. The king was already sitting in one of the armchairs, dressed more casually than he had been for the procession, sipping from a teacup.

"Your guests, Kitagawa Yusuke and Arisato Minato," Souji said, bowing, and Yusuke and Minato hurried to do the same.

"Please, sit." The king gestured to the two empty armchairs, and they lowered themselves nervously into them.

"Is there anything else you require?" Souji inquired, pouring tea into the other two cups.

"Not for the moment, thank you. You are dismissed."

With another bow, Souji retreated back out through the doors, which shut quietly behind him. For lack of anything better to do with his hands, Yusuke picked up the teacup closest to him, the warmth soothing on his cold fingers.

He knew little about the king as a person. The memory of one of the extremely few modern history books he had read helpfully supplied the name  _ Atsuhito, _ but aside from that and the scraps of rumors he had heard since leaving the tower, he knew nothing. The man in front of him seemed kind, but sad.

The king cleared his throat softly, putting his cup back on its saucer. "I have a great many questions to ask," he said, "and I'm sure you do too. But first...I think to answer perhaps the most pressing questions..."

He stood up, walking over to a nearby bookshelf. Yusuke saw him retrieve a piece of parchment from between two books and a canvas that had been turned to face the back of the shelf. He came back to the two of them, offering the parchment to Minato and the canvas to Yusuke.

Yusuke turned the canvas over and gasped. Looking back at him were his own eyes. The face they belonged to was a bit softer than his own, long blue hair falling gracefully around it. On her palm, surrounded by a soft golden light, was the same songbird he had painted, over and over.

"My daughter, Miyu," the king said quietly. "A self-portrait that she painted days before her disappearance."

"This is a contract," Minato said, voice devoid of emotion as he read the parchment. "With a woman named Sonomura Maki. That in exchange for material support, she would remain silent about the heritage of the child she was carrying, and would start a new life away from her family...under the surname Arisato." Minato dropped the parchment on the table as if it were burning his fingers, staring at it as if he were trying to set it on fire. "This says she would be given employment in Osaka." His hands clenched the fabric of his pants. "What happened? Was it too much effort to drag her all the way out there, so you just left her in Nagoya and, what,  _ forgot _ about her?"

"The caravan she was in was attacked just outside of Nagoya," the king said quietly, and in that moment he appeared to age another twenty years. "Everything was torched. There was no evidence to indicate anyone had survived the attack. I should have put more of an effort into finding her...but at the time, it seemed like it was just another incident of misfortune that surrounded all those I touched."

Minato closed his eyes, and Yusuke could see tears wetting his lashes. "She died two years ago. Walked out in front of a runaway horse. But I guess you'll be glad to know she never talked about you, so I had no idea whose bastard child I was."

"It was never my intent for any of that to happen." The king sighed heavily. "Will you allow me to explain? I don't intend to ask for your forgiveness, but you deserve to know the full story."

Minato opened his eyes and picked the teacup up, not bothering to wipe away the wetness still clinging to his eyes as he sipped from the cooling tea.

"My wife, Fumiko, became with child soon after we were wed. It was a difficult pregnancy, and though she gave birth to twins, her body could not withstand the strain, and she passed away before she could even hold her children. The first twin to be born was our daughter, Miyu. The second would have been our son, Mitsue. However...he, too, passed on before the night was over.

"It was hard for Miyu to grow up without a mother. Fumiko's ladies-in-waiting did as well as they could with her, and encouraged her to pursue her interest and natural talent in art. It was then that she learned how to manifest her gift of magic."

"Is that...hereditary in the royal family?" Yusuke asked cautiously.

"Indeed, and only in the royal family. Fumiko's magic was a healing magic. The doctors and royal historians advised her against using it as much as she did, but she couldn't stand to see anyone suffering. It's likely that that's why she was so weak going into childbirth. Miyu's magic was bringing art to life. If she could put it on paper or a canvas, she could make it appear in reality. Mine is rather utilitarian: I can repair things and purify food or drink."

"Why'd you outlaw magic, then?" Minato demanded.

"I'm getting there. Miyu wanted to see more of the world, to find inspiration for her art. But I was afraid of losing her too, so I forbade it. Instead, I woke up one morning to find a note saying goodbye, a handful of the ladies-in-waiting who had all conveniently been sent elsewhere for the previous night, and no ideas where she could have gone. When my initial searches proved fruitless, I enacted that law in one last attempt to have her be found: I knew she couldn't resist bringing something to life, and my hope was that someone would see her, she would be arrested, and then I could at least see her again."

"That was a terrible plan," Yusuke said bluntly, before he could stop himself.

The king chuckled sadly. "You are correct. With my wife dead, my son dead, my daughter missing, and various problematic political situations converging all at once, I ended up bedding one of the younger ladies-in-waiting."

"Sonomura Maki." Minato's voice was, again, dead.

"Yes. I was ashamed of letting myself give in to those desires, so when she came to me with news of her pregnancy, that's when I sent her to Osaka, where she never arrived."

Silence fell. Minato's hands were once again clenched in his lap as he stared unseeingly down at the table. Yusuke looked back at the painting in his own hands, at the mother he had never known. His fingers hovered over the songbird in her palm, and without conscious thought, he let the little bird come to life, gently holding in his hand something his mother had created. It was at once the same songbird he had drawn countless times and something infinitely more beautiful.

When he finally tore his eyes away, the king -- his  _ grandfather _ \-- was wiping his eyes with a handkerchief. "You look just like her."

"So you've found us," Minato said abruptly. "What now?"

The king's gaze moved to him. "Well," he said, "as my closest living direct descendant, you would be next in line for the throne, Minato."

Minato choked on nothing, coughing into his sleeve for several seconds. When he finally emerged, red-faced and watery-eyed, he looked at Yusuke with a mix of wild amusement, disbelief, and abject terror. "What the hell," he managed, before looking back at the king. "This is a joke, right?"

"No. It is the truth. I failed Maki, and I failed you. I would like to do what I can to make it up to you. If you'll let me, I'll teach you everything I can to prepare you. Even if you renounce your claim, you will always have a home here should you choose to accept it."

"Closest living direct descendant...does that mean that Yusuke is next in the line of succession?"

Yusuke's hands flew up in a gesture of surrender. "Please do not put that on me," he implored.

Minato snorted. "It'd be hard for you to fulfill your duties of procreation with Akira." He turned back to the king. "I need to think. Can I give you my answer tomorrow?"

"Of course. Take all the time you need."

"In that case...can I be excused?"

The king nodded, reaching up and pulling twice on a nearby cord hanging from the ceiling. After a minute, the doors opened and Souji entered. "Please show Minato the rest of the palace if he wishes."

"Of course," Souji replied, bowing before turning to Minato. "Shall we?"

Minato rose, leaving Yusuke with a thousand questions.

"What was she like? My mother, I mean."

"Miyu...was smart. Talented. Caring. Everything one could ask for in a princess, let alone a daughter. She dutifully sat through her lessons, but it was clear that her heart belonged to art. I tried to encourage her as much as I felt prudent...but one of the duties that lay heavy on my mind was preparing her to take the throne, with all that would entail."

"Is that why she left?"

The king looked down. His teacup rattled in his saucer as he set it back on the table. "Much as I would like to believe she was spirited away by a kidnapper, I have little doubt that she was rebelling against the thought of giving up her art to rule. We had had a particularly difficult conversation a few days before she disappeared. I was short with her and told her that she would need to mature quickly, and that her studies were more important than hobbies."

He looked suddenly old, the years-old argument settling on him like a heavy blanket. "It surprised me how completely she was able to disappear, though. She might have had help, I suppose."

"The man who raised me told me my surname was Kitagawa....Does that name mean anything to you?"

"Not specifically. She always loved water and rivers. It's likely she chose that name for its meaning when she needed an alias."

"Mm." Yusuke shifted in his seat. "I shouldn't take up more of your time."

The king regarded him sadly. "If you wish to leave, I won't keep you, but don't feel pressured on my account."

Yusuke bit his lip, struggling with himself before bursting out, "Please tell me more about her, then."

"Of course...."


	31. June 1 (Minato)

Minato tried to pay attention to the various things Souji pointed out about the castle, its grounds, and its inhabitants, but mainly he was just glad for the soothing sound of someone else's voice to try to drown out the horde of unfamiliar emotions that were fighting for attention in his head. Somehow the chance decision to go outside and see what a bunch of noise was had turned him from a nobody to next in line for the throne because he was the result of a grief-filled one-night stand, and he really wasn't sure how to feel about any of that.

The grounds really were nice, he noted in a vaguely detached way as Souji showed him the zen garden and koi pond. He'd have to come back out here when he wasn't so stuck in his own head.

When Souji left him in the hallway where their rooms were, he hesitated only briefly before knocking on Akira's door. He needed to actually talk to someone.

Akira opened the door, looking surprised to see Minato there by himself. "What's up?" he asked.

"Can I come in? I just -- "  


Akira stepped aside to let him in.

He was glad that Akira also seemed instinctively drawn to sit on the floor instead of in the awkwardly-fancy chairs by the windows. The feel of the tatami grounded him, and without preamble, he started talking, telling Akira what he had learned about his lineage, and how he was apparently next in line for the throne --

" -- and so now instead of a nobody with nothing to my name but mediocre spinning skills, I'm suddenly a fucking  _ prince _ and I'll be honest, I don't really know how to feel about that."

Akira had listened silently to his whole story. "I mean...it's a lot to process. I don't think anybody would be able to figure out how to feel about that immediately."

"Am I  _ obligated _ to take on learning how to become the next king?" Minato asked, running a hand through his hair.

"It sounds like you have a choice."

"I meant...more like -- " Minato gestured frustratedly at himself. "Am I going to feel bad if I run away from it?"

"Only you can really answer that. But if you ask me...the fact that you're already asking that means you would." Akira's gray eyes settled on him. "For what it's worth, I think you'd be good at it. You know what it's like to be a nobody, you've got a sense of humor, and you can pick up new information easily. Plus, people always like good-looking leaders." Akira gave him an exaggerated wink.

Minato groaned. "Ugh, I feel weird enough apparently being Yusuke's half-uncle  _ without _ his boyfriend making a pass at me, thanks."

"I'm teasing. But yeah, that is kind of weird." Akira shifted position, crossing his legs in front of him. "Speaking of Yusuke, he didn't come back with you?"

"I think he wanted to ask more questions about his mother. I didn't really feel like sticking around for that."

"That's fair." Akira glanced over at the small table between the two armchairs. "Want to play a game of shogi? Might take your mind off things."

"Sure, why not."

They did sit awkwardly in the armchairs to play, but as Minato moved his pieces around the board, it slowly started to feel slightly less weird. They were just starting their second game when there was a quick knock and Akira jumped up to answer it.

Minato watched as Akira wrapped his arms around Yusuke, letting the other cry silently into his shoulder. He knew he was intruding on a private moment, but the dull ache of seeing Yusuke's trust and Akira's love settled deep inside him and wouldn't let him look away. Maybe someday he'd be able to stop pushing everyone away long enough for a girl to look at him the way those two sickening lovebirds looked at each other.

When they finally separated, Akira led Yusuke by the hand over to the chairs, and Yusuke perched on the arm of Akira's chair to watch their game. Minato glanced up at him as Akira was considering his next move. Yusuke's eyes were red, and he looked exhausted, somehow like he was happy but on the verge of crying again. Whatever it was that they had talked about after Minato had left, it seemed like it had been an emotional conversation.

As the sun reached the horizon, Souji brought them dinner, seeming unsurprised to find all three of them in one room. Minato ate mechanically, knowing that this food probably tasted better than anything he had ever eaten before but barely noticing as he chewed, still trying to process everything. When he finished eating, he excused himself to go to his room, knowing Yusuke desperately needed to talk to Akira.

It was a long time before he could fall asleep that night.


	32. June 1 (Akira)

When Minato left, Akira drew Yusuke close onto his lap, wrapping one arm around his waist and stroking his soft hair. "Do you want to talk?"

Yusuke rested his forehead on the side of Akira's head, one hand resting on Akira's chest above his heart. "I don't know."

"That's okay."

They stayed like that for a bit before Yusuke finally spoke. "There's still so much I don't know." He was quiet, grief lacing the edges of his words. "How did my mother vanish without a trace? Did she go straight to Shiojiri? Who is my father? How did Madarame come to take care of me?"

He was trembling, and Akira hugged him tighter. "I wish I had answers for you."

Yusuke sniffed. "I know," he said, his voice breaking.

They stayed like that for a long time, until Yusuke stopped shaking. Akira turned his head to kiss him on the cheek. "Shall we try to get some sleep?" he murmured.

The bed was like settling into a cloud. Yusuke let Akira pull him close, but his hands lay loose on the blanket instead of closing around Akira's as they usually did. He seemed far away, even though he was right there in Akira's arms.

Akira couldn't sleep. When Yusuke turned away from him in his sleep, Akira let him go, trying not to focus on the cold that was seeping through his skin even in the summer night. He watched the other through the dim light of the moon, as Yusuke shifted restlessly. His dark hair splayed out on the pillow as he murmured something incomprehensible.

"I love you," Akira whispered, feeling the words sting in his throat. He had said those words a handful of times, but despite the eagerness with which Yusuke returned physical affection, he had never said them back. Everyone went at their own pace, he knew, but it still hurt a little each time.

Clearly deep in the clutches of a nightmare, Yusuke turned over, disconnected sounds still escaping his lips as his hand grasped at nothing. Akira slipped his hand under where Yusuke was grabbing, feeling the ice-cold fingers grasping his. The hand stilled, and Akira looked up to see traces of wetness down Yusuke's face. With his free hand, he gently wiped them away, and Yusuke's eyes fluttered open at his touch. Without a word, he wrapped himself around Akira, tangling their limbs together.

"Do you want to talk about anything?" Akira murmured.

Yusuke drew a shuddering breath. "I...I don't know." His voice was muffled in the blanket.

"That's okay. Take your time."

"My dreams...they frighten me sometimes. Before, they were always about being found, suffering at the hands of those who did not understand what I was."

"Because of the lies Madarame told you?"

"Yes. Now...I am alone in my dreams, with no one to speak to, or touch. I am always searching for something even though I will never find it. I cannot hear even my own cries."

"I'm here for you now. I know I can't help in your nightmares, but if there's something in reality that you need to find, I would go through hell and back to help you."

"I know."

Akira felt Yusuke exhale.

"I hope I didn't wake you."

"No, I couldn't sleep anyway. Maybe we'll both be able to sleep now?"

"I would certainly like to."


	33. June 2 (Minato)

The sun filtered in around the curtains, and Minato blearily blinked his eyes open. The surroundings felt a little less unfamiliar than they had yesterday, but the soft blanket covering him still felt weird. Like he was sleeping in someone else's bed, in a way that the inn room they had stayed at hadn't.

He sat up, letting the blanket fall off, and as he swung his legs over the side of the bed the weight of the decision he had to make settled back over him. He could renounce his claim to the throne and not take on the responsibility of learning how to rule an entire country. That responsibility frankly sounded exhausting, but on the other hand...

He stood up, noticing that a set of clothes had been laid out for him that were different from the clothes he had been wearing yesterday. He frowned, picking up the white shirt and noticing how much less rough it felt to his fingers.  _ When did these get here? _ He had always been able to sleep through almost anything, so maybe someone had just brought them in the middle of the night without him being any the wiser. He was just buttoning up the shirt when there was a knock at the door. "Coming," he called.

Yusuke and Akira were waiting in the hallway when he opened the door, wearing similar clothes to him. Apparently the clothing fairy had visited them all in the night. "Shall we go eat breakfast?" Yusuke asked.

"Sounds great. I'm starving."

A handful of others were already in the dining hall as the three of them entered, and they all nodded in greeting before going back to their conversations. Plates of food were set in front of them, and Minato gratefully started eating. No matter what his attitude towards the knowledge that had been dropped on his head yesterday was, this was still excellent food, and he had no intention of letting it go to waste.

Yusuke was still picking at his food when Minato finished. "You gonna eat that?" he asked dryly, and Yusuke gave him a tired glare.

"Sorry, I find it difficult to eat in my current state of mind."

"Mm. Well, if it helps you, the food is delicious, and it hasn't done anything bad to you."

A faint, wry smile curved Yusuke's mouth. "I'll try to keep that in mind." He delicately picked up a bite of rice with his chopsticks and ate it.

"Still thinking about -- stuff?" Akira asked Minato cryptically.

"Yeah, a little. But I think I probably know what I'm gonna do."

As he spoke the words, he realized that he  _ did _ actually know what he was going to do. His life, and Akira's life, and Yusuke's life had all been the way they had been because of people not taking responsibilities for things they needed to do because they were unpleasant, or hard, or they just couldn't be bothered. He was not going to keep that cycle going.

And so, when Souji showed him into the king's sitting room again that afternoon, he sat down resolutely at the small table across from the king and poured himself another cup of tea before folding his hands in his lap and looking at the aging monarch. "I've made up my mind," he said. "If you'll help me learn what I need to know, I'll take my place as heir to the throne."

He watched the king's face carefully as he spoke, noticing it go from wary to relieved to -- grateful? "I'm glad to hear that, Minato," he said quietly. "I can arrange for tutors even while we're here in Kyoto, and I will teach you with as much time as I can spare in between my visits."

"Thank you." Minato respectfully inclined his head. "I'll be a good student."

"Do you know what the others plan to do?"

Minato shook his head. "Akira will follow Yusuke, but I think Yusuke was still too upset about everything last night to really think about anything."

"Ah." The king sighed heavily. "I wish I had better answers for him. For you, as well."

"Past is past," Minato said shortly. "At least you told us everything you knew as soon as you found us. You're trying to make things right, and I can respect that." He blew out a breath, picking the teacup up. "And I'm sorry about your daughter."

"At least I can have some closure, such that it is." He reached behind him for paper. "I will need to repeal the law against magic. It was a short-sighted ploy, and I regret leaving it in place this long." He wrote a note and folded it up, placing it carefully in his breast pocket. "Now then." Even through the sadness on his face, Minato could still catch a twinkle in his eye. "Since you poured that tea and haven't finished it yet, we can start on your first lesson: what to listen for when hearing a supplicant...."


	34. August 1 (Akira)

Akira let the curtain fall back over the window where he had been peering out at the city. "I still don't know what the weirdest part of these past few months has been. It's been an adventure."

Yusuke, already dressed for traveling in a dark brown shirt, matching pants, and sturdy boots, looked up from his sketchbook. His hair fell gracefully, framing his face perfectly. "It's all been rather surreal to me," he said, tapping his fingers on the edge of the drawing. "Though I will say that going from being a recluse in a tower to being second in line to the throne is the largest shock I have had in -- well, my entire life."

"Would you have taken the throne if Minato had said 'fuck this, I'm not learning how to rule a country'?"

He had never asked before. If he was honest with himself, until he was sure Minato wasn't going to go back on his word, he was a little afraid of what the answer might be.

Yusuke's eyes clouded. "I...I am not sure." He looked down at the floor. "I don't believe myself suited for the task, even with the training that would have come with it. Ruling requires sacrifices and compromises to be made on behalf of an entire country, and I find such decisions paralyzing. Besides..."

He closed his sketchbook and came to stand next to Akira, taking one hand in both of his. "There are certain --  _ expectations _ \-- of a ruler that I would be unable to fulfill." With a meaningful, half-lidded expression, he kissed Akira, and Akira sighed contentedly into his touch.

When their lips separated, Yusuke rested his forehead against Akira's, eyes still closed. "I..."

He swallowed, clearly nervous. Akira cupped his face with one hand, rubbing his thumb comfortingly on Yusuke's cheek. Yusuke took a deep breath.

"I know I haven't said this before, and in truth...I was scared. Scared that what I was feeling wasn't real, that you would decide that this wasn't what you wanted, that this was all a dream and I would wake back up in that tower. But even though my life has become more and more dreamlike since you rescued me...you've stayed by my side." He opened his eyes, pulling back just enough to look directly at Akira, gray eyes blazing. "Akira, I love you."

The thrill of those words sent a shiver all the way down to Akira's toes as he roughly pulled Yusuke in, teeth awkwardly clacking together as he passionately kissed his beautiful, frustrating artist. When he could no longer focus for need of air, he panted, "I love you too, Yusuke."

A knock at the door made them both jump apart. Yusuke hurriedly smoothed his hair back down as Akira went to open the door. A slight, dark-haired person with a navy cap pulled low was in the hallway. Akira had seen them around before among the retainers, but had never spoken to them. "Good morning," the retainer said formally, bowing low at the waist. "Are the two of you ready to depart?"

"I think so," Akira replied, and Yusuke nodded his confirmation.

"Allow me to show you to your carriage, then."

They followed the retainer through the mostly-empty castle. Most of the servants had gone ahead with Minato and the king, leaving a smaller contingent to accompany Yusuke and Akira. They climbed into the small carriage, Yusuke immediately returning to his sketchbook to draw the scene outside the window. Careful not to jostle his drawing arm, Akira rested his head on Yusuke's shoulder. "Glad you don't have to hide your magic anymore?"

"It does lift a considerable weight off my shoulders." The palace gate took shape under his pencil. "Especially since it seems I must use it periodically to keep it from turning against me." He shuddered, his hand stilling above the paper. "I hope to apologize to Haruhito someday for any damage I caused to his shop."

"I think we're supposed to stop in Nagoya on the way back. You could probably get some time to talk to him then."

"Perhaps." Yusuke tilted his head to rest against Akira's, adding detail to the gates in his drawing.

Akira fell into a doze as they traveled, occasionally waking to see what Yusuke was drawing. At some point, Yusuke put away his sketchbook, lacing his fingers together with Akira's and moving closer to him.

"What was that?" a muffled voice from outside suddenly called, and one of the horses neighed shrilly.

"An ambush! Protect the carriage!"

There were shouts and the clash of steel on steel.

"Don't let them -- "  


There was the crack of a whip, and the carriage lurched forward as the horses took off at a gallop. Yusuke looked wide-eyed at Akira, and then everything was turning wrong side up --

Akira's head smashed against something hard, and everything turned black.


	35. August 1 (Yusuke)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings for this chapter: child abuse, discussion of rape, and character death.

The first sensation was one of rhythmic, jerky movement.

Yusuke tried to open his eyes, but his sight was still inhibited by scratchy material tied tightly around his head. As his senses slowly returned to him, he tried to take inventory of everything he was feeling as it came to him. It seemed he was blindfolded, gagged, and tied to something moving -- perhaps the back of a horse? The motion was making him faintly nauseous, and he tried to focus on anything but that. He did not fancy choking on his own vomit in addition to whatever other misfortunes had befallen him.

With no sense of the passage of time, or whether it was even day or night, Yusuke was not prepared for when his captor came to a sudden stop, and he groaned into the cloth gagging him as a fresh wave of nausea rushed over him.

"Shut up," a rough voice growled, and Yusuke choked back a noise of pain as something -- perhaps a riding crop -- struck his back. "All I'm getting paid to do is deliver you alive. Wasn't nothing said about being unharmed."

Yusuke was roughly manhandled off the back of the horse and thrown to the ground. He struggled against his restraints, trying to wriggle free of the impossibly tight ropes --

Another cloth was pressed against his nose, and a sickly-sweet smell permeated his nostrils as he again lost consciousness.

When he woke up, he was once more slung across the back of a horse. Apparently that had just been a stop to exchange mounts. Or maybe it had been a whole night. Everything ached, he had a splitting headache, and his wrists were chafing painfully against the rope.

The cycle continued for some time. Periodically his gag was removed and a waterskin thrust upon his lips. At one stop, he was dragged off the horse and onto his feet, barely managing to stay upright with the help of the vice grips on his arms.

"Mmmph!"

He struggled as his pants were pulled down. "Shut up and relieve yourself if you don't want to piss your pants on the ride, artist boy," a voice snarled into his ear. Different from the one that had spoken to him the first time.

Yusuke whimpered, humiliation flooding his cheeks, and earned a kick to the shin for it. "What part of  _ shut up _ did you not understand?"

At least the blindfold caught his tears as he did what he was told, and then he was re-dressed and thrown back on the horse.

At some point exhaustion caught up to him, and he fell asleep on the galloping horse, incomplete nightmares chasing them around his head. This time, he did not struggle when he was yanked off the horse and thrown over someone's shoulder.

There was a sharp knock. Apparently they were delivering Yusuke to his final destination.

The door opened and pure ice coursed through Yusuke's veins at the voice that answered. "Finally," Madarame's voice snapped. He sounded...older?...than what Yusuke remembered. "Take him upstairs. Tie him to the bed."

He could picture his surroundings all too clearly now: the rooms Akira had stolen from when he had rescued Yusuke, the spiral stone staircase that Yusuke almost hadn't had the nerve to descend, and his room at the top. His prison. At least the bed was softer than the ground when he was thrown onto it, his captor adding yet more ropes to bind him in place before leaving Yusuke in silence. His wrists and ankles were burning, every tiny movement of the rope against his irritated skin pure torture.

The silence stretched on, giving the terror he was feeling plenty of time to fully take hold. It had been four months since he had left. Four months since he had last made the potion for Madarame. Surely that was what Madarame would force him to do now. The memory of the strands of magic snapping and recoiling into him made him flinch as footsteps echoed up the stairs.

"I gave you  _ shelter," _ Madarame hissed, his footsteps slowly advancing towards Yusuke. "I taught you  _ everything _ you know about art. I gave you a place to stay where you wouldn't be persecuted for your  _ magic. _ All I asked for in return was a simple potion. And  _ this _ is how you repay me?"

Yusuke winced as a blade slid under the blindfold, slicing skin and cloth alike as light flooded his eyes. He felt hot liquid dripping down his cheek as he stared up at Madarame, eyes watering from the sudden brightness after being blindfolded for so long.

Any traces of warmth he might have had as the teacher Yusuke remembered were gone, his pupils narrowed and his mouth contorted with rage. "I'll offer you a deal, Yusuke." His name was laced with acid on Madarame's lips. "Make that potion tonight, and we can return to our earlier arrangement. Refuse, and I will kill you where you lie. Do I make myself clear?"

Yusuke stared at him, but refused to respond in any way. The hilt of the knife slammed into the side of his head, and he tried to blink away the stars in his vision.

"I said,  _ do I make myself clear?" _

"Yes," Yusuke choked out, staring at the wall he was now facing.

"Good." Madarame adjusted the ropes, and when he was done, Yusuke could just barely sit up off the edge of the bed to reach the canvas and paints that were set there. "I'll be back in the morning."

Yusuke waited until the door had closed and locked behind Madarame before letting the tears fall, shaking uncontrollably. He could not make that potion, simply could not.

The sun had set by the time he sat up to face the canvas, the ropes again setting his wrists and ankles aflame. He reached for a paintbrush, staring forlornly at the set of paints that were available to him and trying to ignore the pain in his wrists. Mechanically uncapped the paints. Routine muscle memory guided him as he shut himself away from what he was doing.

An eternity later, sometime in the middle of the night, he stared at the finished product. It looked the same as every other one of these he had painted for years and years. His eyes were dry and burning, his wrists were on fire, and at that very moment he almost wanted Madarame to be dissatisfied with the product and kill him anyway to end his suffering.

He tried to push the gag out of his mouth with his tongue, but it was impossible. He tried to contort himself enough to get his hands behind his head to untie it, but the ropes digging into him soon put a stop to that. He tried to paint a knife to cut his own bonds, but Madarame had provided him barely enough paint for the potion. Cursing his lack of foresight, utterly defeated and exhausted, he closed his eyes to try to sleep for a few hours before Madarame made him enchant the potion.

What felt like moments later, cold steel was once again against his skin. With a start, he scrambled back to his senses, trying to get away with what little leash he had --

"Yusuke, calm down, it's me -- "  


The whisper cut through his panic and his eyes focused in on a mop of curly black hair --

"Akira," he tried to say, but the sound couldn't even make it through his parched throat to be muffled by the gag.

Akira made quick but careful work of the ropes binding Yusuke to the bed, unscrewing the cap to his waterskin and helping him drink. "We've got to get you out of here," he whispered, once Yusuke had finished off the water.

"How did you -- "  


"Climbed up the wall. Wouldn't recommend trying to go down that way. Think we can make ropes out of your bedsheets? That would at least make it easier."

"I -- "  


_ "You!" _

The thunderous shout from the door cut through the air like a spear, and before Yusuke could register what was happening, Madarame had crossed the room, knife in hand, and thrown Akira onto the floor.

"No, please, I -- "  


Yusuke didn't even know what he was going to say as he watched Madarame pin Akira to the floor with a knee to the gut.

"Run!" Akira coughed, struggling against the man, but the glint of silver was still in Madarame's hand, and Yusuke couldn't move as it caught the sunlight when Madarame pressed it to Akira's throat.

"Manifest the potion."

When Yusuke didn't move, Madarame pressed the knife's edge down. Yusuke could see blood seeping down its edge. "I said,  _ manifest the potion." _

"Why?" Yusuke asked, desperately stalling for time as he racked his brain for a way to get out of the situation. "Why are you so intent on using that potion? Surely you -- you still have many years left naturally -- "  


"You always were a fool." Madarame didn't even deign to look at him. "Manifest it and I'll tell you."

Hating what he was doing with every fiber of his being, Yusuke lifted his hand. Little as he wanted to make the potion, his desire to learn more about the situation he had been forced into won out. His fingers shook as the golden strands of magic flowed out, biting off a cry of pain as he snapped the strands. His vision blurred as the magic recoiled.

"Bring it here."

Yusuke gripped the phial with both hands, stumbling towards his teacher. Carelessly, Madarame swiped it from him, swiftly uncorking it and drinking it with one hand. When the liquid was gone, he dropped the empty container on the floor next to Akira's head. Yusuke flinched as the delicate glass shattered, desperately fighting to stay conscious as the sound reverberated in his mind. Madarame smiled, a horrible, twisted expression.

"You think you were the first to make that potion for me?"

Yusuke swallowed.

"Royalty is full of selfish brats. Cheaters and philanderers, the lot of them. It doesn't take much to convince a king or queen to let you simply make the evidence of their infidelity...disappear. And magic doesn't care about the legitimacy of the bloodline."

"You've been -- "  


"Your grandmother was inconvenient, dying with her first child. The supplier I had at the time was aging, and while I was able to get a child from her before she died, the child was sickly, barely living long enough for your mother to come of childbearing age."

"Supplier?  _ Get _ a child?" The bitter taste of bile rose in the back of Yusuke's throat. "You took a woman captive and -- and forced her to carry your child?"

"The fact that your mother  _ ached _ to see the outside world was a nice coincidence." Madarame continued as if Yusuke had not spoken at all. "It was easy to convince her to come with me, that I could give her everything her father was denying her. But she was willful, hard to control. It was clear to me that I needed a better solution. I confined her to this tower. Carefully-selected herbs kept her pliant and agreeable."

"No," Yusuke whispered, a horrifying realization dawning on him as he stumbled back, away from --

"Once she had served her purpose, I convinced her to extract the rest of her life force into a stockpile that would last me until you were old enough to be taught,  _ my son." _

He wanted to vomit, to scrub his skin off until nothing remained, empty his veins of the blood of this  _ monster _ that was in front of him. "You killed her," he choked out. "You drugged her -- forced yourself on her -- and you killed her." His voice rose in hysteria. "Why would I make this potion for you anymore? Why would I do  _ anything _ for you now?"

"You'll never be rid of me, Yusuke. My deeds will always be with you -- after all, that's what  _ you _ are. Besides -- "  


Sunlight glinted off the blade of the knife again in its sickeningly graceful sweep across Akira's neck.

" -- you have nothing else."

The world slowed to a crawl.

Crimson bloomed from Akira's wound as shock widened his eyes --

Yusuke grabbed the knife Akira had dropped when Madarame grabbed him --

Akira's head lolled sideways, away from him, as Madarame retracted his hand --

A hoarse scream echoed around the tower room as Yusuke's free hand found Madarame's hair and grabbed, the other hand dragging the knife through the sickening softness of flesh --

Time sped back up to normal as Yusuke dropped the knife, staring at his own hands in horror as Madarame slumped limply to the side. He fell to his knees, violently retching what little was in his stomach onto the floor. Coughing and shaking, he crawled next to Akira, collapsing on his lifeless form.

"No...Akira...Akira!"

He shouted hoarsely through his sobs, the name tearing through his throat and mouth and leaving jagged edges in its wake as he gripped the front of Akira's shirt with his hands, and as he felt his magic rise up within him he let it unspool through his fingertips, because he could bring art to life and Akira was nothing if not a work of art --

Instead of the snapping and recoiling he was expecting, he felt the strands of magic becoming thinner and thinner, the gossamer threads gently separating themselves entirely from him and seeping into Akira's form. And --

The wound knit itself closed with soft golden light and Akira drew a shuddering breath.

Yusuke clung to him with the last of his strength, feeling his heartbeat, the rise and fall of his chest with every breath, and Akira weakly rested a hand on top of one of his. "We're okay," he heard Akira whisper. "We're okay."

"Akira..."

He could no longer fight the darkness that was gathering around the edges of his vision. Everything faded away as he sank into the welcome embrace of unconsciousness.


	36. September 20 (Akira)

"Hey."

Akira announced his presence quietly as he slipped into the room he shared with Yusuke, hair still damp from the bath and thin robe clinging to his skin in places. It was just after sunset, the quickly-fading light of day joining the lights from the lanterns in their room. Akira could see Yusuke in the corner near the windows, looking thoughtfully at his canvas. He held a hand out in a familiar position, but nothing happened. He glanced up as Akira walked around to the other side of the canvas, slowly dropping his hand to his side. "How was your bath?"

"Excellent." Akira wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, resting his head on his shoulder. "What're you working on?"

Yusuke hummed, adding a touch of white paint to his brush. "Nothing much," he said lightly.

It had been several weeks since the events at the tower. Yusuke had clung to life by a thread, lying comatose for a few days while the royal physician -- with Minato's help -- had worked to counteract the effects of him using up all his magic. While they had mostly settled into life at the palace in Tokyo since then, sometimes Yusuke would still stare forlornly out the window with haunted shadows in his eyes, or wake with a cry in the middle of the night when a nightmare came. Akira's heart ached whenever he saw the darkness that came when Yusuke remembered anything about that day. It was nice to see him finally feeling good enough to paint.

"It looks familiar."

"It's a painting of the beach at Nagoya." He glanced sideways at Akira, a soft smile on his lips. "Where we kissed the first time."

Akira smiled as well, kissing the side of Yusuke's neck up to his earlobe, arms tightening around him so he could feel his subtle reactions, until Yusuke finally sighed a little, put down his paintbrush, and turned fully into the embrace, capturing Akira's lips with his own and pulling their bodies flush against each other.

"Come to bed," Akira purred against Yusuke's lips, slipping a hand inside Yusuke's shirt to emphasize his meaning.

Yusuke stepped away, eyes full of heat as he untied Akira's robe, letting it hang open as his gaze swept down Akira's body. "Yes," he growled, and Akira's toes curled at the possessive note in his voice as he seized Akira's hands and dragged him over to the bed, brushing the robe off his shoulders and onto the floor before pushing him down and kneeling over him.

Akira managed to rid Yusuke of his shirt before his wrists were pinned to either side of his head and Yusuke's mouth was on his body, tongue flicking back and forth over a rapidly-hardening nipple. Akira moaned at the sensation, hips bucking up into Yusuke's.

Yusuke's eyes were dark and sultry in the lantern light as he stared into Akira's, removing one hand from his wrist. Akira's back arched as Yusuke pinched the nipple he had just had in his mouth, and he let out a noise halfway between a whimper and a moan.

"Do you like that?"

"F-fuck, Yusuke." God, it was like a switch was flipped; the normally reserved and shy artist became possessive and domineering when they were like this, and Akira loved it. He closed his eyes in sheer pleasure as Yusuke pulled both of his hands up above his head so he could restrain him better with one hand, dropping his mouth to Akira's other nipple and taking it delicately in his teeth, pushing Akira to the very edge of pain and dropping back, over and over, until Akira was a moaning, trembling mess.

"Akira."

"Yes?"

Akira opened his eyes, still panting. At some point while he was driving Akira mad with desire, Yusuke had discarded the rest of his clothing, and Akira hungrily licked his lips at the sight of him, fully erect and straddling him.

"I want you." Yusuke's fingers traced down his chest. "I want to hear you scream my name in ecstasy. I want to claim you as my own."

"Do it," Akira groaned immediately. Then, with a smirk, "Do me."

Playful annoyance flashed across Yusuke's face as he reached for a small, nondescript jar on the nightstand, dipping his fingers in its contents. "Clearly I still have work to do if you can still talk that way."

A cool, slick fingertip pressed against his opening, and he closed his eyes and relaxed to allow it entrance. Yusuke's other hand stroked his hair. "Is this okay?" he asked quietly, dropping the confident act for a moment.

Akira nodded, moving his hips a little and being rewarded with a small bit of friction inside him, pleasant and stimulating. Carefully, Yusuke moved his hand, pushing in a bit more before retracting it and pushing it inside again.

"Mm...oh..."

Yusuke added a second finger, then a third, before curling his other hand around Akira's shaft and using his thumb to spread the leaking precome around the tip. Keeping eye contact with Akira, he licked the salty liquid off his thumb.

"Yusuke," Akira whimpered, trying to push Yusuke's fingers inside him at a different angle, and then he felt empty as the fingers vanished. "Yusuke..."

"Akira." He watched as Yusuke dipped his fingers back in the jar of lube, rubbing it up and down his length, before pushing Akira's legs apart and positioning himself. "Be mine."

Akira wasn't sure what sounds came out of his mouth as he felt Yusuke slowly push inside him, only aware of the fullness he felt as Yusuke sheathed himself fully inside him. "Oh, God," he moaned.

Yusuke's eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply, as if trying to regain control of himself. Akira's hand lazily went to his own hardness, rubbing up and down as Yusuke slowly started to move.

Their moans mingled together in the warm summer air as Akira bucked his hips to match Yusuke's thrusts, and Yusuke's hands gripped Akira's shoulders as he thrust in at just the right angle. "Oh, God, Yusuke -- "  


"Akira -- I can't -- "  


He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in, calling Akira's name as hot liquid spilled out inside him, and with another quick pump, Akira felt his own climax coming, and with one last cry of Yusuke's name, he let his release spurt out, painting his own abstract artwork on Yusuke's chest and stomach.

Yusuke's eyes were hazy, his breath quick and heavy, as he gazed down at Akira. Akira pulled him down into a kiss, not caring about the mess. "I love you, Yusuke," he mumbled, as Yusuke slowly, carefully, pulled out of him.

"And I love you, Akira."

Their kisses were slow and languid as they lay comfortably together, before Akira finally sighed. "We should clean up."

"Yes, since  _ someone _ couldn't control himself."

Akira flashed him a toothy grin. "You wanted to claim me as your own. I just marked you as _my_ own."

Yusuke blushed a deep red as he followed Akira into the bathroom.


	37. Epilogue (Yusuke)

For the tenth time in as many minutes, Yusuke carefully touched the silver circlet that had been placed on his head, trying to still his nerves. Souji, the retainer they had met in Kyoto all that time ago, nodded his approval of something one of the other retainers was talking about, before bowing to Yusuke. "Is there anything I can get you before the ceremony?"

"No, thank you. How long until it starts?"

"Only a few minutes."

_ Good. _

He heard a hush fall outside as a traditional song started, and soon enough he was walking at a slow, controlled pace to the seat on the king's left side. From the other side of the hall, Minato entered, looking calm and -- dare he say it -- regal as he took his place at the king's right hand.

When the song had finished, the king rose to address the audience gathered. "My countrymen, I have had the duty and pleasure of serving you as your king for many years now."

Yusuke glanced around the audience, searching. Akira, being neither of royal blood nor formally attached to royalty, had not been allowed to participate in the ceremony, but Yusuke found him near the front. He smiled warmly when Yusuke's eyes settled on him, and Yusuke felt a familiar flutter in his chest.

"...and so, now that our family has been united once more, it is time for me to pass the duties of leadership onto my son."

Minato rose from his seat, bowing before the king.

"Prince Minato. As the eldest surviving descendant of my house, you took up the studies required to learn of our country, our struggles, and our triumphs. You have shown yourself a careful listener and a thoughtful speaker. In all respects, you have proven a talented and capable young man. Do you now agree to take on the responsibility of the crown?"

"Yes. I will serve the people to the best of my ability."

"Then I, King Atsuhito, do hereby abdicate in your favor. May the sun shine on your reign." He lifted the crown from his head and placed it carefully on Minato's before turning to the audience. "Your new king."

Once the ceremony was completed, Yusuke found Akira waiting for him. "A lot's happened in five years, hasn't it?" Akira said. His dark kimono nicely complemented his pale skin, and Yusuke had to suppress the urge to skip the rest of the evening's festivities and drag Akira back to the bedroom for some festivities of their own.

"It has," he agreed instead. "I still find it overwhelming sometimes, and I have a fraction the responsibilities that Minato has. I do not envy him in the slightest."

"Me neither." Akira offered Yusuke his arm. "But I think we should go join the dinner so he has someone friendly to talk to."

Yusuke smiled, taking the proffered arm. "I'm glad you can be with me for this part."

"Of course." Akira's expression was tender. "You look even better than usual in those clothes."

"You flatter me."

"When do I not?"

They laughed together softly before Akira suddenly stopped, turning towards Yusuke. "When can we get married?"

Yusuke's breath caught in his throat, and he wondered if he had heard correctly. "Do -- you want -- ?"

"Of course I do. I've been head over heels for you since I dragged you out of that tower. When you were trying to draw everything in the forest around you, I couldn't stop staring at you. When you kissed me in Nagoya, I felt like I could burst into song. And I  _ don't _ sing. Today -- Yusuke, it's been five years, and I still want to watch you paint for hours on end, make love to you until neither one of us can breathe anymore, and talk to you about everything. I love you more than anything, Yusuke. Will you marry me?"

For once, the tears falling down Yusuke's face were happy, as he threw his arms around Akira. "Yes."

They stayed in their embrace until the light sound of someone clearing their throat came from nearby. Souji smiled at them. "Your presence will be missed at the banquet if you delay much longer," he said.

"Of course," Yusuke said, flustered. "Thank you."

As they turned to go, they heard him say, "Congratulations."

Hand in hand, they entered the banquet hall, ready for the next chapter in their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! This story was a lot of firsts -- first NaNoWriMo project to see the light of day outside of Google Docs, first smut, first story I published despite not being terribly happy about it...Thanks to those of you who read and commented and kudos'd <3


End file.
